Animagis
by BML Hillen-Keene
Summary: Animagis: a magical organisation made up of 'dead' witches and wizards, in the ageless battle against the Chirloc, demons of chaos. How is Lucius controlling them? Is he Dark Lord truly returned? DracoRon
1. Part 1 Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: don't own_

_Don't ask where this came from, I don't know. It's just been pattering round in my head for about an hour._

_Chapter 1_

_-Potter residence-_

Harry Potter had become a recluse, after that final confrontation, and his extended time in st. Mungos to get his heads straightened out he had retired to a little house in the country. He lived with Hermione Granger, his once close friend, now life partner, and their daughter, Clarice. It had been a hard time all round after the war, what with the wizarding world in a shambles, the ministry on its last legs, everyone struggling to bring themselves back from what had happened.

They had left the wizarding world, turning their backs on a world that had caused them so much pain. For Harry could not think of it without the bitter taste of bile rising in his throat. Because of that world he had lost those most dear to his heart, his parents, Sirius, Remus, Ron. It was a miracle he hadn't lost Hermione as well.

But as it were they were happy with their life in the country, living as muggles, away from everything even remotely connected to wizardry and witchcraft. They had no intentions of even sending their child to Hogwarts. Their aversion to that world was so strong.

But on a typical Sunday in October, with Hermione, her bushy hair pulled back into a thick ponytail while she prepared Sunday dinner. While Harry was entertaining Clarice out in the garden playing hide and seek, their home and happy family was rather rudely invaded.

Hermione frowned when someone knocked the door, people rarely stopped by, they were known for their reclusivness, only the grocer, the milkman and occasionally the library truck came by, and no one from their respected places of business. Hermione wiped her hands on a tea towel before going to the door and opening it slowly.

On her doorstep stood a man, of about her own age, with features that looked chiselled fro stone, steely grey eyes bored into her's through a long and somewhat messy fringe, long hair pulled back and into a loose ponytail that allowed long strands of hair to frame the starkly beautiful face. He was wearing somewhat expensive clothes, though casual. He looked a little too respectable to be a salesman.

"Yes?" she asked after she recovered from her surprise, there was something particularly off putting about the man, he seemed somehow familiar, but she was sure she would remember a man whose hair draped past his waist while tied up as it was.

The man rolled his eyes, another too familiar gesture. "When they said you were reclusive, I didn't believe they meant you'd completely forgotten." He said with a disdainful sniff and causally stepped past her. "Where is Mr. Potter? We really must get going."

Hermione stared at him in shock, the audacity of him just barging into her home. "Who do you think you are!" she demanded.

Without looking at her he began to move towards the kitchen. "Honestly Mrs Granger, or is it potter now? This is really not the time, now where is your husband, my partner is currently waiting rather anxiously for us to join him."

"Who are you?" she demanded, shrilly, her voice alerting Harry to a problem within the house.

The man turned to her, reaching up with his left hand to brush a silver strand of hair away from his face. "I am Draco Malfoy." He said easily.

"Draco Malfoy is dead." Harry said from the kitchen door, keeping a tight hold of his daughter's hand.

"So you would like to believe, now would you be so kind as to follow me. We have a situation that cannot wait for explanations."

"Get out of my house." Harry demanded, his voice quivering with contained rage. Malfoy was dead; he had seen him struck down himself. This was some kind of elaborate joke on behalf of the wizarding world, and he wasn't going to stand for it.

"Indeed I shall, however I really must insist you come with me."

"What kind of sick joke is this?" Harry spat. "Get out! I will not go back to that place just because you come here claiming to be a man I know is dead!"

The mans whole body cackled with a sudden energy as his head whipped round, hair cracking almost audibly through the air as he fixed steely grey eyes on Harry. "This is no joke Potter, this is not to get you back to the wizarding world-believe me, I quite enjoy it without you in it. This is to save your life. Now either get yourselves outside and down to my partner or I shall take you out kicking and screaming." He said it with such deathly calm, that Harry was too startled to summon wandless magic.

"Don't bother Potter-you haven't used it in over ten years, it would not work. Now get outside now before Weasely comes in and we're stuck here until doomsday."

"Weasely?" Hermione breathed, faint hope welling up inside her, if this really was Malfoy, then maybe it was "Ron…" she whispered.

Harry looked at her and his heart clenched. "This is sick. Get out." He ground out.

The man pursed his lips. "Oh, for the love of-" he swiped a hand irritably through the air and suddenly Harry found himself frozen, as did Hermione, and their daughter. "Do remember that you brought this upon yourself Potter." He said and turned and strode out of the house. And, unable to stop themselves, the Potter family followed.

Once outside they saw someone at the bottom of their garden, a shock of red hair told them without a doubt that it was a Weasely, no one else had hair quite like that. And as their forced march brought them closer they were very shocked by the fact that this man could be none other than Ron. He didn't look at them as they came closer, his eyes trained on the house and the fields around it. Through his shock Harry began to wonder what was going on.

Finally the red heads eyes came to rest on them, flicking over them casually, before he looked at the silver haired man, a very Ron like smile on his face. "What happened to the 'I'll get them out of there quicker than you.' Malfoy?" he asked.

Draco, as it was now confirmed didn't even bother to scowl. "If you had gone in there you would still be standing explaining. Is it ready?" he didn't bother to release Harry, Hermione or Clarice, so they were forced to just stand there.

Ron nodded.

"Good, take them and go." He waved his hand again, making those under his power step forward.

"Don't do anything stupid Draco." Ron warned.

"I'm not you Weasely, nor Potter, don't assume." His lips quirked in a very real smile.

Harry sensed nothing, but he nearly fell as the spell was suddenly released, Ron grabbed him, pulling him forward and down while Malfoy instantly whirled to cover Hermione and Clarice. It was obvious something had changed, and radically, the tension that had been in the air before had risen tenfold. Ron's voice came very close to his ear and something was shoved into his hands.

"Get Hermione and the kid to touch it. When you land stay there-it's safe, don't move from there until either I, or Malfoy come and get you." Ron's eyes darted over to Malfoy, who although he wasn't looking nodded an affirmation, whispered something harshly to Hermione and stood. "Go now." Ron hissed, getting to his feet.

It was an undignified scrabble, but for some reason Harry could not find it within him to disobey Ron's order, there was just something about his voice, something in his tone that made it very clear what he had to do. So he reached his wife and daughter and together they touched the thing Ron had given him.

In the instant before transportation Harry saw something he had never witnessed before, but unluckily it wouldn't be his last viewing of the creature.

Something large, made up of shadows and light ascended with alarming speed upon the two wizards. The air cackled with energy and magic. And then the pull of the portkey yanked him sharply away.

Vv

No words were needed as Ron drove forward, recklessly drawing on the reserves of magic within him, the magic around him began to change into a distinct shape, and soon, to all but the untrained eye Ron had become a massive tiger, leaping, paws reaching, claws extending, plunging into the shimmering creature before him.

Draco's grey eyes had drifted shut as two fingers rose and deftly cut through the air, leaving a trailing silver line in its wake. While Ron held the creature distracted he completed the intricate symbol quickly, stepped back and sent it hurtling towards the creature.

Ron sensed the symbol coming and pushed himself away from the creature, but he was not far enough away when the symbol struck, sending the creature into a screaming rage. It thrashed in the throes of agony as the Symbol seared through it, breaking it down. Tiny darts of power rained on him, like falling icicles cutting his flesh. He twisted away from it, looking back to where Draco was, seeing him fall to his knees as the creature still thrashed, his expression contorted.

It was nearly over-very nearly over. He almost had it. Through the haze he could feel another rising behind him, but he couldn't give up focus. One at a time. The warning he felt come from Ron filled his mind, and taking as much magic as he dared away from sealing the creature he sprang from the ground, not fully changing, just enough to let him get out of harms way.

But not soon enough.

A blinding pain shot through him, causing the magic to falter and he fell. He recognised the rumbling growl, and he hoped Ron wouldn't just rush in like he normally did. A blaze of red shot past him, slamming into the second creature. It sparked and screamed, but it was weak. Draco struggled to ignore the pain, those feather light touches of fire that were burning holes through his clothes.

Ron reached Draco seconds later, the first creature was recovering, and he didn't have the power now to stop it. His magic would cancel Draco's out. "Draco Focus!" he ordered. He could see from the annoyed frown on his partners face that if he had been feeling up to it Draco would have very sarcastically retorted to that. "Come on Draco-your not going to let that bastard win are you?"

Draco's eyes snapped open at the implication and sought out Ron's. Grey eyes met blue and they melded. Draco drew strength and concentration from that gaze and sent everything he had to the symbol he had created. And with a final shriek the creature vanished, and it rained ice rain down on them.

After a moment Ron smiled and pulled away. Draco pushed himself to his hands and knees, his silver hair trailing the ground, dropping his head he watched in silent fascination as blood dripped serenely from his side, staining the end of his hair red. Finally he pushed himself to his feet, swaying only slightly.

Ron stood back, knowing Draco would not appreciate the help if he offered.

"This." Draco said slowly, gritting his teeth. "Is entirely Potter's fault."

Ron barked a short laugh at that. "Maybe if you hadn't spent so much time in there talking it wouldn't have happened." His smiling expression faded. "Is it poisoned?"

The look Draco gave him answered all his questions, and then some.

With out waiting to see if Draco was following, trusting he would, Ron clasped his hand around a pendant hanging on a chain round his neck and apperated to where Harry, Hermione and little Clarice were. Draco took a second longer before gathering the energy to shake loose his own symbol from the silver chain wrong his wrist, balling his hand into a fist and tiredly putting his reserves into gear and apperating after Ron.

Vv

Harry and Hermione jumped, and Clarice nearly cried in terror when Ron sudden appeared among them. Without the customary disorientation associated with apparition Ron quickly moved away, barely registering them. Harry and Hermione watched him, almost afraid to speak. Getting another shock when, seconds later, as Malfoy appeared.

"Weasely." Draco ground out.

Ron didn't look up from where he was rummaging through a box. "A second here Malfoy." He retorted. He got up, going immediately to where Draco had settled himself on a chair, leaving his side exposed.

"What's going on here?" Harry asked suddenly, his eyes darting between them. The Ron Weasely and Draco Malfoy he remembered would never have been this… familiar with each other let alone almost friendly. There was no animosity here anymore.

Ron coughed slightly before smiling guiltily. "Emm… Draco, explain."

"Why do I have to explain, they're your damn friends." Draco muttered sourly.

"Because I just saved your life, so do it." Ron said.

Another series of mutterings none of them could decipher, though from the smile that graced Ron's lips he knew what they were. "Fine." He looked across at Harry and Hermione. "We are the Animagis, the bad guys are a bunch of very stupid wizards who released a series of not so stupid demon like things, and you are in some very real trouble."

There was a shocked silence.

"I think that about covers it." Draco said, leaning back, grimacing as Ron's hand slipped slightly on the wound.

"What was that thing I saw?" Harry asked.

_O.k., so I don't know what exactly is going on. Give it a go anyway. Review and be nice about it._


	2. Chapter 2

OK, chapter 2 of Animagis. Just so you know. I do have a vague idea as to where this is going. It's just filling it out that's a little difficult. Well, anyway, enjoy it.

_Chapter 2_

_-Unknown residence-_

If looks could kill, Harry would have been dead nearly three times, and only nearly because Draco just didn't have the energy to make up the difference. The poison was sapping his strength faster than it normally would.

"Honestly Potter, can't you hear? That creature was one of the bad guys-Dagnabit Weasely! Could you try not to destroy my clothes anymore than they already are-these were expensive!"

Ron rolled his eyes and proceeded to rip the shirt the rest of the way up the side, and ignoring the comments of "Worth more than your life you damned Weasel.". He simply said. "Stuff it Ferret." Then he turned to look at Harry and Hermione. "What you saw Harry, was a Chirloc Demon."

"Which is?" Hermione asked her brow furrowing.

Ron looked about to answer but Draco cut across sharply. "Something we shouldn't be discussing!" he shot Ron a warning glare.

Ron ignored him. "No one actually knows-there are no books on them, nothing to explain what they are, or why they do what they do. Just how to release them and how to seal them back up. They take the bodies of muggles and wizards-makes them hell to track. But in their original form they look like what you saw today." He explained.

"So much for secrecy. I knew taking this case was a mistake-we should have deferred it. But no, you just had to see you old friends one last time." Draco muttered drowsily. "And really Weasel, if you must explain do it right."

Ron chuckled, he finished bandaging Draco's side, he had almost fallen asleep. "Draco, Draco drink this." Ron roused him enough to make him drink a potion. "If you guys can give me a minute to put sleeping beauty here to bed I'll explain everything."

"It's supposed to be a secret." Draco muttered. "And I can get all the way to the bedroom on my own Ronald." He forced himself to stand; grimacing in pain, more of his hair had come loose, spilling over his shoulders. With a hand pressed to his side he made his was quickly, if somewhat unsteadily to a door on the far side of the room.

"I'd appreciate it if you didn't talk about this when he's better-the last thing I need is for him to be pissed at me." Ron said as the door shut.

"What the hell is going on?" Harry exploded. "You're supposed to be dead! And him! What are you doing together? What was that thing-why did it attack you-what the hell just happened?" there was a wild look in his eyes.

Clarice began to look as upset as her father.

"Harry, calm down." Hermione said, stroking her daughter's hair.

"Calm down!" Harry exclaimed, suddenly rendered speechless in his utter confusion.

Ron laughed, drawing Harry's attention back to him. "Calm down and I'll explain Harry."

Harry looked at him in angry expectation.

"Right-well, technically-officially, I am dead, and so's Draco."

"Then how-" Hermione began.

"Let me explain Hermione." Ron said. "I am officially dead-not actually dead. That day-the day you all thought I'd died, that was the day I discovered I was an Animagis. I woke up two weeks later, very disorientated, told I was officially dead, part of a secret organisation-with Draco bitching in my ear about being partnered with me."

"What's an Animagis? Hows it different from an Animagus?" Hermione asked.

Ron would have applauded her, she was still the same Hermione, she picked up on everything.

"Why didn't you come back and tell us you were alive?" Harry demanded.

"I couldn't. You have to understand, I'm breaking a lot of rules telling you this at all. An Animagis is someone whose magic takes the form of an animal, unlike an Animagus where you become the animal yourself. It's not really that different except that you don't become an animal-you become one with the magic-and the magic just happens to take on the shape of an animal. One perk is that you don't have to use wands anymore-or say incantations."

"Couldn't you have let us know somehow?" Harry persisted.

Ron smiled and shook his head; soft red curls swiped his cheeks. "If I had of told you, you would have come looking for me and been drawn into this whole mess sooner. It's better if everyone thinks your dead; it makes the job a damn sight easier to do."

"What job? Damnit Ron would you just tell us!"

Ron sighed. Now the real explanation had to start. "Right-when you-know-who was in power, that first time, he managed to enlist the services of some Animagis, and had them let loose the Chirloc. It's basically an Animagis' job to seal the Chirloc away. So during the first war the Animagis were too busy sealing the Chirloc to become involved in the power struggle between you-know-who and Dumbledore. Now, just a few years before the start of the second war the Animagis had managed to reseal all the Chirloc, and then some stupid bugger got it into their head that they could use the Chirloc against you-know-who. But the Chirloc don't fight for anybody. They live only for destruction-that's why you-know-who had them released during the first war. Anyway-because of that round up during and after the first war, we're too few to keep up with the number of Chirloc on the loose now. But, two years ago Chirloc activity reduced dramatically, and the killings went from random to very specific. We believe they're being controlled by someone with a hit list on everyone involved in any major way with the last war."

"So that's why they were after us?" Hermione breathed.

Ron nodded. "They only reason they couldn't find you was because you were so reclusive. I have to say though, I'm glad we took the case-no matter what Draco says. I wouldn't have trusted anyone else to bring you in safely.

"You trust Malfoy?" Harry asked, blinking behind his glasses. "You don't even like him-or you didn't at any rate."

"Ten years of eating, sleep, working and owing my life more times than I can count to the man will do that to a person." Ron shrugged. "Having said that, we just barely tolerated each other that first year or two."

"Tolerated?" Hermione asked, voice faint and confused.

"Well he was a deatheater after all-it was hardly the happiest of partnerships in the beginning."

"So what changed? When did you start trusting deatheaters? What the hell is going on in the wizarding world?" Harry demanded loudly, being quickly shushed by Hermione, who was still stroking Clarice's hair, who, in the typical way of children who have just gone through something as emotionally terrifying, was almost asleep.

"I was like that-the first year. All I did was call him a filthy deatheater. I honestly made his life a living hell. And he took it rather well considering. You don't have allegiances within the Animagis to anyone other than the Animagis. That's just the way it is. So, he wasn't a deatheater, not anymore. He took it a whole year and a half before he snapped."

"What did he do?" Hermione asked, leaning forward, interested.

"Attacked me."

"Attacked you?" Harry asked, stunned, obviously thinking back to a time when Draco Malfoy would have gotten someone else to do the attacking for him.

"Changed into his Animagis ground animal and attacked me." Ron smiled fondly. "It was the biggest fight I'd ever had. Left more than one mark let me tell you, but he had two years on me at that point." He glanced over to the bedroom door. "After a while he kind of grows on you."

"I can imagine." Harry muttered.

Ron checked a sigh. Maybe now wasn't the best time to go into how Draco wasn't really all that bad. "Look-I've gotta get in there." He said looking to the bedroom. "It speeds up the healing process if an Animagis and their partners are close." He explained.

"When you say partners, you don't mean just working partners do you?" Hermione asked.

Ron coughed lightly. "Em… no, most Animagis partnerships are a little bit sexual-being officially dead is a little bit straining on a normal relationship. Besides, you can't spend twenty-four hours a day, 365 days a year with a person and expect it to be purely platonic. Though some have managed it. There's an all female team who have I know."

"So and Malfoy are-?" Harry cut himself off with a grimace of disgust.

"That's another reason I never came back-well, after the second year anyway. We are one of the few compatible teams-only natural the way we are really."

"How do you mean?" Hermione asked.

"Our Animagis shapes are compatible. I'm the ordinary red tiger, he's a Siberian, I'm a red kite, he's a silver falcon, I'm a dolphin and he's a shark. Makes perfect sense really. We're very alike, yet very different. A Weasel and a Ferret."

There was an annoyed grumble in the back of his head-even injured, and asleep in the other room, Draco was voicing his objection to Ron telling Harry and Hermione absolutely everything. "Right-if I say anymore I'm going to be done for letting out one too many secrets." He laughed. "You'll be safe here; we'll talk whenever Draco's well about what we're going to do. You can do whatever you want within these rooms. For absolutely no reason leave-don't open a window, nothing. Be ready to leave at a moments notice. I would suggest you get some sleep in now, when Draco wakes up we'll be moving out." Ron smiled, got to his feet and started towards the bedroom on the far side of the room.

He left Harry and Hermione to puzzle through everything he had told them.

He closed the door of the room and leaned against it, looking over at Draco, curled up on his side on the far side of the bed facing the wall. Natural habit, because Ron was paranoid enough to want to always face the door. It was all part of his gryfindorish style of protecting those he was with. Ron pushed off the door and went to the bed.

He was well prepared when he settled himself for Draco's hand, now a wavery white and black stripped claw to swipe at him. Draco had rolled over and was half up to attach before he realised it was Ron, and he relaxed back, grimacing as his side twinged.

"You bastard." He growled.

"It's not my fault you have to attack everything that comes close to you." Ron smiled. "Any better?" he asked.

Draco shook his head, and crawled over the bed until he was practically sitting on Ron. Straddling him. "So did you tell your friends everything?" he asked.

"Most of it." Ron said, starting as Draco's hand began to tug off his shirt.

"We should have deferred the case. I knew you would tell them everything." Draco said, starting work on Ron's trousers.

"They are my best friends Draco." Ron said, reaching over. "I am not being the only on naked here."

"You knew them for all of what-eight years? That is no reason to tell them everything." Draco told him. "And you ripped my shirt. I am naked enough thank you very much." But he didn't protest too much when Ron wrestled the trousers down and kicked them off the bed.

"Why do you only every get like this after you've been poisoned?" Ron asked, laying back and letting Draco hungrily mark his neck and shoulder. "I tell you everything."

"You've known me longer-you sleep in the same bed as me-you're supposed to tell me everything." Draco said, pulling back a little. "And as for this-I do this when I'm not poisoned."

"Not quite as needy though." Ron grinned.

"I am not needy-hungry maybe. Besides-this could be my last ever night of sex. It has to be good." Draco said, returning to what he was doing.

Ron laughed. "You always say that Draco." He flipped Draco over easily so he was on top and he grinned wickedly. "What you gonna do now ferret?" he asked.

Draco cocked his head to the side, a very feline look crossing his face as he smiled. The pain in his side forgotten. Sex always healed him quicker than anything else. And he set out to regain his place on top. A flurry of movement later and Ron was back to laying on the mattress, laughing, with Draco leaning over him, predatory smile on his lips and a gleam in his eyes.

_Done. Emm… yeah… it's true, really-if two people spent so much time together you can't expect anything less. Its all about dominance, besides, Ron is just a big kitty cat; Draco's an evil wee bugger of a cat. Sorry, random talking. Anyway, next chapter up soon-hopefully. (I'm pretending like I'm actually posting this until our internet comes back online)_


	3. Chapter 3

_Disclaimer: Don't own._

_I hope this installment-that came so much later than expected meets you're expectations. I wanted to look a little more at Ron and Draco's relationship, so there's not much action. I am however halfway through writing chapter 4, and it's got a fair bit to make up for the lack of it in this one. Remember to be nice and review!_

_Chapter 3_

When Draco awoke the room was dark, but he could faintly see that he was facing the door, something that only ever happened if he was ill (rarely) or poisoned (which was more often than he cared to admit). Also, he only ever woke up with Ron draped over him and pressed up against his back after a night of excellent sex (which was of course every time they had sex) or if Ron was ill or wounded. And as he was certain neither he or Ron were sick, it meant he had been poisoned, again, and he and Ron had had an excellent night of sex.

He started to detangle his legs from Ron's, whatever time it was it, it was well after time they should have been moving on. He yawned a little and started to push himself up. Ron's arm didn't slide off him as he had expected, instead it tightened.

"Draco, your wound hasn't healed yet, a few more hours won't hurt." Ron's voice drifted from close to his ear, moving the wisps of hair that had escaped his pony tail.

Draco let himself be pulled back down, with a grumble. "You won't be saying that when we have a hoard of Chirloc breathing down our necks when we do leave." but he allowed Ron to draw him in closer.

Ron laughed lightly, his fingers began trailing down Draco's side, lightly skipping over the wounded area. He felt Draco begin to settle back to sleep. Though he knew Draco would tell him to stop being such a 'stupid irritating worry weasel', he couldn't help but be a little concerned, the Chirloc that had poisoned him hadn't been in anyway strong enough to cause the wound to heal as slowly as it was.

"The other one was." Draco breathed softly, picking up on his thoughts enough to come back from his doze, why Ron had to worry about these things he could never guess, he had merely used up a lot of his reserve magic sealing the Chirloc away. "Now stop annoying me-wasn't it you who said I should sleep?"

Ron smiled slightly, pulling Draco closer. "Mmm." he replied.

"Then let me." Draco shifted a little in the warm security of Ron's arms and settled back, drifting off to sleep easily.

This was what Harry and Hermione would never understand about Draco, because they would never see it. It was something he himself had struggled to come to terms with, seeing through the words to the meaning underneath, because, although he would never voice it, Draco had quite the caring personality, you just had to recognise it for what it was. And he knew just how to make Ron feel at ease.

Ron closed his eyes, listening to Draco's breathing until he feel into a light sleep.

The next time Draco woke up the room was light, and he was faced with the rather frightening countenance of Potter and Grangers child, standing right beside the bed by his head, staring at him. He kicked back at Ron, who was still sprawled along his back.

"Huh? Wazit Draco?" Ron asked groggily, sitting up.

"Get it out of the room Ron." Draco ordered.

Ron frowned. "Get what out of the room?" he asked before seeing Clarice. "Ah." he smiled. "Kid-" he tried to recall the name on file. "Clarice, could you go back to your parents."

The little girl looked at Ron while he spoke, but she turned her attention back to Draco almost immediately afterwards. "You have awfully long hair Mister." she said with a smile, before she turned and left the room, closing the door behind her.

"Ugh! Remind me never to have children." Draco muttered when she had gone.

Ron laughed. "Well unless you have something you'd like to tell me I don't think that will be a problem." he said, lounging back, intending to make the most of staying in bed before Draco sprang into action. "And it wasn't very nice to call her an 'it', she has a name you know."

Draco snorted. " Children are 'it's' Ron-it's just the way of life-I refuse to think of them as anything else"

"You refuse to think of a lot of people as anything else." Ron shot back.

Draco pushed back the blankets and swung his legs off the bed. "And if you haven't moved your arse from bed and brought me some tea by the time I get out of the shower, you will be one of them." he got to his feet and made his way to the little ensuite (both rooms had one), pulling the rest of his hair from the ponytail as he went.

Ron admired the view, still lounging. He had to admit, he didn't think anyone could possibly have a cuter ass than Draco Malfoy.

"Ronald-now." Draco said firmly as he reached the door.

"Fine-fine, I'm going." Ron sighed, and got out of bed as the door to the bathroom closed. He fished in the pile of clothes at the side of the bed for his own, he used a 'refreshing' spell on them before he got dressed. Now, ready to face the world, the Chirloc, Harry and Hermione, he went to the door and stepped out into the little living room space

Harry was sitting on the sofa, watching Clarice, who had come back out and was playing with some toy that Ron suppose Harry or Hermione had magicked up for her. Harry's eyes flicked to him as soon as he stepped out of the room.

"Good morning Harry." Ron smiled.

Harry merely nodded. "Hermione's in the kitchen making something for breakfast. I'm assuming we'll be leaving pretty soon."

Ron nodded. "Yup-as soon as his highness has his tea we'll be going." he started towards the kitchen, but Harry's next question stopped him.

"Why Malfoy Ron?"

Ron smiled, turning to Harry, who barely recognised the expression on his face. "Just because." was the only answer Ron could give him, before he continued on to get Draco his tea. "Hermione." he said upon seeing her.

"Ron." she smiled in return, coming over to give him a hug. "I have breakfast on the go if you want some." she offered.

"I would absolutely love some, but, I have to get Draco his tea or he'll be cranky all day, and I don't want to put up with him." Ron smiled.

"Well, there's some tea in the pot if that'll do." the way she said it told Ron she already knew it wouldn't, but her smile made it less insulting. While he would tolerate teasing towards Draco, he wasn't about to let it go to far, as he had already stated, that last thing he wanted to put up with was a cranky Draco.

"Unless you've used his super special tea leaves, then no I'm afraid-he's horribly picky. Beside's, if I bring him the wrong tea he'll make me do it every morning until I could do it right." he made his way to the cupboards-all safe houses had about fifty teapots in them-he didn't know why, they just all seemed to.

"Oh, so this isn't an everyday occurance then?" Hermioned quiried.

Ron laughed, he knew what she was thinking, that he was some kind of servant to Draco, it was a preposterous idea, Draco might be able to weedle things out of him, but he wasn't that much of a pushover. "No, no. this is only because he got poisoned-kind of a little tradition we have." he smiled, thinking back to when it started-the first time he had ever felt guilty Draco had been poisoned, and had made him tea the next morning. Oh the complaints he had gotten that morning-but Draco had drunk it all none-the-less. He lit a little fire under the tea pot and waited for the water to boil.

Hermione watched him, noting the smile, but said nothing.

X

Draco peeled back the bandage on his side, hissing as the hot water from the shower hit it. It still wasn't healed fully. He would have to make sure Ron didn't realise or the stupid Weasel wouldn't let him alone for a second. He looked at it as his long fingers traced it, it was just beginning to turn the greenish yellow that meant the last of the poison was gone from his system. It should have turned this colour two hours after the potion had been taken. Perrhaps he had drained his reserves too much sealing that demon.

He sighed and pulled the bandage off completely, letting it drop to the bottom of the shower, he tiped his head back and summoned his magic to douse his hair in his favorite shampoo, he'd be damned if he was going to leave the safe house with blood in his hair. When he was satisfied both he and his hair were clean enough he stepped out if the shower, towelled himself dry before going back into the bedroom, rubbing the ends of his hair with the towell to dry them.

His trousers where still on the floor, along with Ron's hideous maroon jumper, but as Ron had ripped his shirt beyond repair yesterday he would have to make do until he could get back to his own wardrobe. He freshened them up before he pulled them on, grimacing at the thought of himself in the ill fitting jumper.

He moved to the middle of the bed to wait for Ron to get back with his tea and finished towelling his hair dry. He was halfway through braiding it over his shoulder when the door finally opened and Ron entered with his tea.

"I was thinking." Ron said, setting the mug down and turning to look at Draco, who was tying off his hair half done.

"Don't break anything." Draco said, reaching over for his tea.

Ron raised an eyebrow. "Ha ha." he rolled his eyes. "Anyway, I was thinking that you should take Harry and I'll take Hermione and the kid."

Draco looked at him with a sardonic smile. "Ah-looking to have one last tyrst with Granger I see- a bit risky with the child don't you think."

Ron smiled and sat on the edge of the bed. "Why Draco-jealous?" he asked.

"Of who? You or Granger? I should think not. I do have one question however-why do I get stuck with Potter-he's insufferable enough already without me having to be stuck with him all day."

"Well, it's either take Harry, or Hermione and the kid-remember Draco-children. Do you want to be stuck with one of those all day."

Drace grimaced distastefully at the idea. "Fine-I'll take Potter."

Ron smiled. "Good-I'll go let them know about the arrangements."

Draco nodded, and stopped nursing his tea to drink it. Closing his eyes and gathering all his energy, and patience-if he was going to have to deal with Potter all day he would need it.


	4. Chapter 4

_Disclaimer: don't own._

_Right so-this one's pretty long by my standards-and I've tried to keep it more or less together-so please forgive some slips in spelling and the odd typo, and if things don't quite make sense just let it slide this once-I'm up to my neck in assignments and I've only been back at uni a few days. As promised there is a lot of action._

_Chapter 4_

The plan was simple. Draco would take Harry to one of the port keys to the Animagis base, and Ron would take Hermione and Clarice, it was perfectly normal procedure when a team had more than one target. But while Ron was quite happy to be escorting his teenage crush and her child to their portkey, Draco was less than amused with his situation.

Babysitting Potter.

How degrading.

They had kept conversation to a bare minimum so far, of which Draco was immensely glad-Potter had a way of getting under his skin and breaking his cool façade-That was why he had normally teased Ron in school, he always had the upper hand over him when he riled him up, and he still did, on the few occasions he took to tease the other man.

Harry had been walking a few feet behind Malfoy. He still didn't quite understand the whole Animagis deal, and he could definitely not understand how Ron could possibly have become friends with him, let alone… Well, Harry point blankly refused to even think about that. He watched, in somewhat perplexed fascination as Malfoy's hair, braided only halfway down with the rest hanging loose, swayed as he walked. His hair seemed to have an entirely different rhythm to the rest of him.

Finally, after two hours of just following Malfoy through the streets, not knowing where he was going, he decided to broach some conversation. "Malfoy…"

"Potter, I would prefer to get through this assignment with as little conversation with you as is conveniently possible-so unless you have something that is actually important to say-as in, 'there happens to be a demon after us', I don't want to know." Draco said, never stopping

Harry sighed, but kept his conversation to himself. And they continued on in silence for a time. He lost himself in his thoughts, wondering where Hermione, Clarice where, glad they were with Ron and not Malfoy-while Ron might trust him, he had no such intentions. He could hold his own against Malfoy if needs be, after all, he had always managed it back at school.

So preoccupied, Harry didn't realise Malfoy had stopped until he banged into him from behind.

"Honestly Potter-how on earth did you manage to survive Voldermort if you can't even walk correctly." Draco sneered.

Harry's eyes narrowed. "Well what the hell did you mean by stopping like that?" he demanded.

Draco's sharp grey eyes flicked round them, he could sense the Chirloc nearby-but they were in human form, or animal, and there were a lot of them or he wouldn't have the feeling quite so strongly. He sensed the attack as it came.

"Down!"

He shoved Potter backwards to the pavement, spinning to meet the attack, he caught the possessed man by the upper arms and fell backwards with him, kicking the man over him and sending him tumbling further down the pavement away from Potter. He summoned up his magic-he didn't have enough to seal all the demons-and besides, he would hardly have time with the number there were. As he twisted up into a crouching position his magic began to take form.

Harry watched in astonishment as Malfoy vanished and a giant white and black striped Tiger leapt forward and into the crowd of people around them, swiping left and right with it's great paws, claws passing straight through the people, and they fell to the ground. Harry was sure they were dead. The Tiger turned from them suddenly, a great growl rumbling in his throat. Harry was transfixed as it began to stalk towards him.

Draco's rumbling growl was directed at the group of possessed muggles crowding behind Potter. And while Draco knew that his Animagis ground animal form was very impressive, he did hope Potter would pull himself together any time in the near future-unless the stupid idiot moved right now he was going to end up dead, and Draco wouldn't be able to stop it. He pulled back slightly, drawing himself up for a leap over Potter and into the Chirloc behind. All he could hope was that Potter would get the message, get up and run.

Harry's mouth was dry, he had faced down Voldermort, but somehow his mind was completely blank when faced with a giant magical tiger who was intent on killing you. He swallowed as he saw the tiger pull back, ready to spring-ready to leap on him and tear him to shreds-kill him as he had killed those innocent people. Something akin to survival instincts made him scramble desperately out of the way as the tiger pounced, rolling to the side and forcing himself back to his feet he scrambled back and away, turning to see the Tiger fall into a crowd of people who had been standing watching, giant claws swiping left and right. Desperately he tried to think of a spell that would put a stop to this madness.

He had always know Malfoy was evil. That he delighted in killing innocents.

Not for a moment did it cross Harry's mind that Draco Malfoy was putting his life on the line to protect him.

Draco could feel his magic start to drain. A wizards magic could never completely diminish, but if that magic is concentrated too long, or used without proper rest, it becomes exhausted more easily. It was this that Draco was beginning to feel. His form wavered slightly, as he twisted, claws driving through yet another muggle, his magic catching the energy of the Chirloc within and dragging it out-a little like an exorcism, only quicker. The muggles fell to the ground, unharmed, but out cold. The only thing he could be thankful for was that the Chirloc had to form their energy into a form that could attack him after they were forced out of their hosts, and because they were unbound chaos that took some time.

He twisted again, only to see Potter standing, like the idiot he was, staring at what was happening instead of running. It was at this moment that his magic had dissipated to the point the could not maintain his ground animal form. He took one last swipe around him, before he dropped it, turned, and with very little dignity, grabbed Potter's arm and hightailed it up the street as fast as he could.

Harry had been too stunned by the sudden tug on his arm to protest or pull back for a full three and a half minutes, in which time they had turned one corner, crossed a street and were just about to turn another corner, when Harry finally jerked to stop, forcing Malfoy to stop with him.

Draco wasn't expecting Potter to suddenly stop, and was thrown of balance when he did. He took half a second to regain his balance, glance around, probing for Chirloc, and finding none for the moment, before he turned, eye's gleaming with an icy light that could cut through anything. "Just what do you think you are doing Potter?" he asked scathingly. "Why do you seem to have an aversion to doing what you're supposed to!"

"Oh." Harry said angrily, his face darkening. "And what am I supposed to do-help you escape after you murdered all those people?" he demanded.

Draco was literally astonished for a full minute, staring at Potter like he had just spilled the secret of life, before he lost his control and laughed.

Harry frowned at Malfoy, finally calling to mind some spells. The other man was obviously insane. He took a step back-seeing Malfoy laugh somewhat hysterically was a rather frightening sight all told.

Harry never saw it coming until he was pulled bodily round the corner and into a deserted road and slammed against the wall, with Malfoy's face very close to his own-all laughter gone.

"I am going to explain this to you once Potter-and only once. I don't like you, I never have and I never will. However, I take my job very seriously-and unfortunately that job dictates I have to get you back to headquarters in one piece, otherwise I would have quite happily have left you back there-I might have even cheered the Chirloc on while they ripped you limb from limb. But I didn't. I put my life on the line to save your sorry ungrateful ass Potter. Now I don't really care what you think of me-but for the duration of this mission you are going to start using what little brains you possess and think before you start jumping to conclusions. Because you almost got me killed back there Potter. And I am not in the mood to die for you or anybody else. Have you got that?"

Draco's voice was slick and silvery, and cut like a knife. He released his hold-hiding how worn out he was already. Once he got back to headquarters he would have to go to the medic-his reserves were far to low for a simple poisoning.

Harry rubbed his neck where Draco's arm had pinned him, and looked at Malfoy. "Chirloc? Those people back there were demons?" he asked.

Draco shook his head. "No, they were possessed."

"Did you kill them?" Harry asked, his tone sharp, he would go no farther if he had.

"No Potter, I did not." Draco snapped. "Now cut the talk I don't want to hear it." He looked up the street. If memory served, which it normally did, this road should take them back out onto the main road, a detour, but a necessary one. Another hour or so and he could hopefully fob Potter off to someone else and not have to think about him again. He started walking, knowing Potter would follow him.

He was halfway down the street before the feeling struck him.

"Now is the time to start using those brains I mentioned." he told Potter sharply before the world seemed to erupt around him. And he was thrown backwards, hitting the pavement hard.

Harry took one look at that same combination of shadows and light that made up the Chirloc, saw Malfoy thrown back. Yes, he had faced the Dark lord-but Voldermort had at least been human once. He had no idea of how to deal with a Demon. So he did the only thing he could. He ran.

X

Ron, contrary to Draco, was enjoying leading Hermione and Clarice through the streets towards the Portkey. Of course his vigil was constant, he was always probing the airs energy for anything resembling the Chirloc. But so far there was nothing. The conversation was nice, pleasant. Hermione wanted to know absolutely everything about the Animagis, his life in it, Draco. Everything. And Ron indulged her questioned, after warning her against even thinking about mentioning any of it back to Draco. Ever.

"-Right-so Draco's doing his usual-bitching and complaining, because one of the guys told him he was a 'sidekick'-"

"Why a sidekick?" Hermione asked with a smile, keeping an eye on Clarice, who was walking a few steps ahead.

Ron laughed. "Because of the two of us, he's normally the one who gets captured, beat up, poisoned and nearly killed. I'd need an extra twenty hands to count them all up." he smiled. "It drives him absolutely mad when people say it-because he is actually the best Animagis among us." He turned his head slightly-feeling something stir.

"Ron?" Hermione asked, seeing the laughter fade from his face.

"Hermione, down this road there's a branch off to the left, go down it, the second road on your right after that will take you to a square-once you're there go into the little pub on the corner and wait there for me. Ok?"

"Is it them Ron?" She asked, a tinge of fear, not for herself, but for her daughter.

Ron nodded. "I don't know how many or how close, but we'll probably get separated. Just go to the pub. The Portkey's there. I'll know it when I get there, so just wait. I'll just have to distract them for a little while."

Hermione nodded. "Ok Ron. But if we do you have to promise to be careful. Don't die on us just when we finally find out your alive."

Ron smiled at her fondly. "I won't 'Mione-besides, a few Chirloc don't bother me."

She smiled at him and took Clarice's hand. They hadn't stopped walking, so the turning loomed closer. she cast a sideways glance at Ron, a little feeling of dread began to well up in her gut.

They took the turning. The street was less busy than the last. Ron kept all his attention on locating the Chirloc. They were close. He wasn't sure how close, but the were nearby. He felt the energy stir up behind him and summoned his magic.

"'Mione Now!" he yelled, taking off from the ground, changing into his air animal, avoiding the poisoned claw that was sweeping towards him. He saw Hermione scoop Clarice up and start to run. Now to business. He turned his attention to the large Chirloc he was hovering just of reach of. One nick from that claw and he could kiss goodbye to at the very least 6 months of life-at most, his life completely.

Without Draco to back him up he was going to have to be more careful than he normally would be when dealing with the Chirloc. With a piercing screech he dived, dodging the claws that tried to catch him, ripping through the chaos energy surrounding the demon, distracting it long enough for him to land a safe distance from it. He uncurled from where he landed, his hands moving rapidly to create the fiery symbol that would seal the demon away.

When he had completed it, he stepped back, just as the Chirloc was moving forward. He summoned his magic together and sent the symbol hurtling towards the Chirloc. It caught it dead centre. He put all his concentration and reserves into the sealing. The demon was too large and too powerful for him to do anything less. All he could hope was that there wasn't another somewhere close by.

So absorbed was he and determined, that he failed to notice the claws, flailing as the demon fought to escape being sealed, come swinging towards him. Until he felt the skin on his arms and chest rip open. Even as his eyes widened in pain, he desperately called upon what was left of his magic and sent it hurtling to the symbol, giving it the boost it needed to seal the demon completely.

His hand went to his chest, feeling the poison already working it's way into his system. Drawing suddenly ragged breaths he pulled what was left of his magic reserves to change, a much as possible, into his red kite shape, forcing himself to take off, flapping his wings awkwardly as he made his way painfully to the pub.

X

Draco rolled out of the way as what could be termed a fist was slammed into the ground where he had been. Quickly getting back to his feet Draco spared a glance to see where Potter had gotten off to, in time to see him dive round a corner at the end of the street. Glad he now didn't have to think about getting Potter out of harms way, Draco turned his full attention to the Chirloc. Hoping the others he had exorcised were not going to show up as well.

"This." he said in an angry mutter, shoving the hair that had come loose and was sticking to his face with sweat behind his ear. "Is entirely Potter's fault."

He registered the 'fist' coming for him again, and forcing his exhausted body and magic to combine he lifted off the ground, silver wings shining at his back. He avoided the clutching appendage three times before his wings began to fail him and he wasn't quick enough. He choked as the Chirloc's chaotic energy closed around him, sucking the breath from his body, crushing him in it's tight grip. He tried to struggle, but stopped when he started to feel his bones squeaking together.

The next thing he knew he was slammed bodily to the ground, hearing bones crack. He got his arms under him and pushed himself up-hissing in pain as his right arm trembled under the strain. He forced himself to his knee's. his eyes narrowed and very, very angry. With a speed that he should not have had, his body as beat up as it was, he had twisted to his feet, facing the demon. His left hand already tracing his symbol into the air.

Sensing what was going to happen the Chirloc charged forwards, reaching to pound him into nothing. There was no fear in Draco's eyes as he released the symbol-putting everything he had into sealing the demon away-refusing to admit defeat, though he was the weaker. His energy waning with every passing second. The determination kept him standing, kept him from backing down, kept his magic flowing into the symbol despite all the warnings his body was sending.

He dropped to his knee's, eyes clenched shut, teeth gritted. Until finally his magic failed him entirely. Gasping he opened his eyes, expecting to feel the Chirloc's final blow.

But it never came.

Where the Chirloc had once been there was nothing. Closing his eyes in relief, catching himself on his left hand as he began to fall forward he allowed himself a weary smile and a moments rest before he forced himself slowly and labourisly to his feet, stumbling over to the wall, his hand on it for support.

Now to find Potter.

X

Ron practically collapsed as he reached the front of the pub. Ignoring the stares of the muggles around him. He didn't care. In the fight against the Chirloc whether the public saw or not was not important, just so long as they were destroyed. But right now he was just in too much pain to care. He pushed open the door of the pub. A silence fell immediately. Clutching his chest he looked around with blurry eyes, looking for both the portkey and Hermione and the kid.

"Ron!" Hermione cried, rushing forward, Clarice in tow.

Ron tried to smile for her. "Hey 'Mione…" he gasped out, his eyes still searching for the portkey. His vision faded in and out, he barely heard Hermione's questions, though if he had the energy he could have guessed them-but he didn't. If he didn't get to the medic and get some very strong potion right now he was going to die. Not something he really wanted to do.

Draco would kill him if he died.

"'Mione… 'Mione, that table, the one by the window. The ashtray. Get it now…" he told her through gritted teeth.

Hermione went without question, of which he was glad and came back with the ashtray. Ron reached out to touch it. Hermione made Clarice do the same. With his other hand Ron pulled out his pendant symbol and he concentrated on home-in the medic rooms.

A swirl of magic later and they were there, startling the medic who had just been settling down to read through his potions book. Ron saw him start towards the potion cabinet immediately, saw Hermione's worried face, and then his vision when completely black.

_I'm nearly finished chapter 5-so that should be up soon. I hope you liked and please leave lots of nice reviews-you can leave two if you really want to-make me feel loved here plp!_

_Thank you!_


	5. Chapter 5

_Disclaimer: Don't own-at all._

_Right-sorry for the latness-I had other things I had to sort out first-and for once it wasn't assignments. Anyway. Sorry, but here's chapter 5, it may not be the best chapter I've ever written-but I did try. The first couple of paragraphs are a little confusing, but just roll with it._

_Chapter 5_

All Draco could think as he reached the corner he had seen Potter turn down was that this had all been too well planned. Somehow the Chirloc had known where they would be. Even though he was exhausted, and needed to cling to the wall for support, his mind was still active, still racing along. It was probably the only thing keeping him on his feet. It wasn't normal for him to have healed so slowly after a poisoning-that was the first thing that was wrong, obviously his body and his magic had been fighting it off all night-thus leaving him weak today. And the amount of Chirloc-that concentration of them wasn't normal. Too many in one place. It had been an ambush-and if that failed there was that last one he had fought. He knew the Chirloc had become organised, but this was insane. Someone had known where they would be.

That was all Draco could come up with. And if someone knew where they would be, it had to have been someone within the organisation. Which meant they had a traitor in their midst. Draco stopped, leaning his back against the wall, as his thought's continued, he knew he should be going on, finding Potter. But this suddenly seemed so much more important. No one but himself and Ron knew what ways they would be taking Potter, Granger and the child. He didn't even know what way Ron was taking Granger and the child, and Ron didn't know where he was. Not that he suspected Ron at all-he knew his partner far to well for that. But it meant that even if Ron had been captured and tortured he couldn't have given them the information.

It could have been just his own paranoia brought on by physical exhaustion, but he doubted it. It was far to coincidental. Finally he pushed himself off the wall, hoping that Ron wouldn't be an idiot and try to impress Granger if they were attacked.

"Potter!" he called, sensing the man was somewhere close. "Potter, we don't have time for you stupid games-get your ass out here now!" his voice didn't have the same bite to it as it would have normally.

"Malfoy?" There was something akin to concern in Potter's voice that made Draco straighten unconsciously and turn steely eyes to him.

"Come on-we still have a fair way to go." He began to move on, ignoring Potter, his hand still resting on the wall for support as he did so.

Harry, who had taken cover in a little alcove down the road when he had come to his senses and realised he would have to wait for Malfoy, because he didn't know where the Portkey was, studied Malfoy for a second. He looked about ready to drop. Harry didn't understand how sealing a demon could take that much out of him. Silently he followed Malfoy down the road-toying with the idea of offering him some help.

X

"What's happened to him!" Hermione demanded to know as the medic rushed over, potion in hand.

"He's been poisoned-badly." The medic said rapidly, putting the open neck of the bottle into Ron's mouth quickly and empting the contents inside. He then turned his attention to the ripped clothes and bloody marks on Ron's chest and arm, ripping the remains of the shirt off he quickly summoned all the things he would need. Sparing a glance to Hermione he said. "Could you go to the room two doors down and tell whoever's inside that I'll need the crash kit up please."

Hermione's eyes widened, having it confirmed that Ron may die, before she got to her feet and ran out the door, down to the room the medic had stated, didn't bother knocking just opened the door and said. "The medic needs the crash kit now!"

The young woman in the room sprang to action immediately, opening one of the big cupboards at the side of the room and pulling out something very similar to the crash kits found in muggle hospitals. "Who is it?" she asked as she flipped a few switches to turn the machine on, turning to wheel it out.

"Ron Weasely." Hermione said, her eyes darting to the room at the end of the hall.

The woman winched in sympathy. "Is Draco with him?" she asked, finally getting the machine into the hallway and moving towards the door.

Hermione shook her head.

The woman's eyes widened. "Shit-what the hell happened to him then?" she asked as they quickly reached the door.

"We were separated." was all Hermione could think to say.

The woman took one look at Ron and all conversation fled as she rushed to the medics side, as fast as she could lugging the crash kit with her. She knelt beside the medic and all Hermione could do was watch as they fought to save the life of her best friend.

X

Finally, two hours later, a lot longer than Draco had hoped, they reached a little travel agents-inside was a Portkey back to headquarters. Pulling away from the wall he reached out a hand to grab the door, pushing it open.

Harry had a grudging respect for Draco, after watching him continue on, especially when he looked like he should have collapsed hours ago, and was in pain. Yes, a grudging respect, because he didn't really want to find anything admirable about Draco, but he was sure that if it was him, he would have probably packed it in the first five minutes down the road.

Draco stumbled a little entering the shop, but he caught himself quickly, his eyes sweeping the shop for the portkey. He caught the faint magical energy from it, a pen on an empty desk. "Potter-green pen on the third table-get it."

Harry looked at him in surprise for a moment, before he started towards the desk and the aforementioned pen, he lifted it, glad all the workers were busy. He brought it back to Draco. "Should we really be doing this in front of muggles?" he asked in a whisper.

Draco turned weary eyes to him. "Do I look like I care Potter-if we wait we could be attacked again-just hold onto the damn pen." he grit his teeth as he moved his right arm, it had been sending spasms through him for a while-it was broken, he just couldn't wait for it to go numb and stop bothering him. He shook his bracelet pendant loose and caught it awkwardly in jerking fingers, touched the pen and concentrated on the medics room-damned if he was going to walk the whole way there-Potter could make his own way.

A swirl of magic later and they landed in the medics room, to find the medic, Hermione and one of the girls Draco thought he recognised from one of the other teams, who always seemed to be hanging around here, all crowding round a bed. And if Hermione was there it could mean only one person.

"What the hell has he done to himself this time?" Draco asked, no emotion evident in his voice

The medic turned, eyes widening when he saw the state Draco was in. "He's been poisoned Malfoy, badly."

"Is he dead?" Draco asked, shaking off his own weariness to settle cold eyes on the medic, who was coming towards him, complete with bandages.

"No-but there's a chance he could-"

"If he's not dead yet then he's not going to die. He's too stubborn to." Draco switched his gaze o the woman, avoiding looking at Ron for the moment. "You-Lydia-Linda-whoever you are-take Potter, Granger and the child to the council."

"But-" Potter began.

"Don't argue with me Potter-just go-now! The last thing Weasely needs is you lot hovering round. Now get out!" he snapped.

The woman nodded, taking Hermione's arm and leading her away from the bed, she was well used to Draco's outbursts and need for privacy with Ron when either of them were injured.

Draco sagged to the bed beside Ron's as the door snapped shut, letting his eyes drift to Ron's face. He sighed, letting the medic fuss around him, healing what injuries he could, bandaging those that wouldn't heal right away. Finally he handed Draco a cup of something. Draco downed it without thinking, his eyes still glued to Ron's face, reading every flinch, every restless movement.

"I'm sure he'll be alright." the medic said softly, seeing the far away and worried expression on his face.

His concentration broken Draco raised his eyes to the medics. "Go away." was his response.

The medic smiled-it was rare to have Draco in such a state of openness, despite how he tried to hide it. But it worried him. If injured an Animagis drew upon the strength of their partner, he had seen Animagis pairs die when both were too injured to offer the other the support they needed. He made his way to his little office to give them some privacy.

Wincing as his broken arm and ribs protested to being forced to move, Draco shuffled across to Ron's bed. "Move over you stupid Weasel." he said quietly. Subconsciously Ron must have caught the command, because he shifted over in the bed, just enough to allow Draco to fit onto the bed. Glad he was slender enough to fit Draco lifted the blanket and crawled in, gritting his teeth against his own pain, avoiding jostling Ron.

When he was in, and somewhat comfortable he closed his eyes, his exhaustion rising up to the point the couldn't push it back anymore.

"If you dare die after all the time I spent training you-I'm going to…" he trailed off, sleep taking him finally.

In his little office the medic looked out, seeing the two of them in the one bed-all he could do was pray that they survived.

X

"Is he going to be all right?" Hermione asked finally, unable to keep her questions inside anymore.

The woman, Lois (not Lydia, or Linda), smiled kindly. "He'll be fine so long as Draco's there." she said.

"Malfoy-what good will he do him-he's in just as bad shape." Harry said, worried about Ron. "What happened?" he asked.

"Ron sensed one of those demon things, told us to run. We waited for him at the pub he told us to, he showed up all bloody and injured, and we port keyed here." Hermione said quietly, she closed her eyes and shoved her worry aside-there was nothing more she could do for Ron right now. "Where are we going? Who is this Council?" she asked.

Lois smiled again. "They're the boss men. They get to decide what safe house you go to until we find out what's going on." she turned a corner into another corridor. "Don't worry-everything will be fine."

_Short-I know, I know. I do think I got a little cuteness into Draco though-I got to thinking when I was re-reading chapter 4, that Draco has turned out a lot like the Alan Rickman verson of Snape in the films. I don't know why, but when I was reading what he thought about Harry again it just struck me. Does anyone know if you can upload pic's onto this site? It's just that I have some cool ones for this story, reall cartoony some of them, and then some better ones. If you know if you can, please tell me how._

_Thanks, and thanks to all who review-please review some more, and get others to as well!_


	6. Chapter 6

_Right. I'm sorry I took fifty years to update. I hope you can forgive me, and I want you all to know, that because it's not the summer I will try to update as often as possible. So enjoy the new chapter. I just hope that I've managed to keep the characters right—they sometimes get lost when you leave them so long. So read, review, and I'll update as soon as I can._

_Chapter 6_

Draco woke uncomfortably, his ribs, though the pain had lessened considerably, were protesting to his position, and if he didn't get the weight off his arm immediately it would probably break again. The best way to go about this, he decided when his brain finally, tiredly, kicked into gear, was to open his eyes so he could see what was going on.

The pained profile of his partner greeted him, Draco sighed lightly and shifted slightly, gritting his teeth as he realised that it was his own weight crushing his arm. He rolled to his side, slipping out from under the blankets, nearly falling off the too narrow bed. He stayed like that for a minute, gathering himself together. He was absolutely exhausted, and it was completely Ron's fault, the idiot was drawing as much healing energy as he could from him. He shivered in the cold air outside of the bed before pushing back the blanket completely and swinging his legs over the side, shooting a well deserved glare at the oblivious Ron after a small wave of dizziness left him.

He stood up and looked down at himself, grimacing, he was still in the same trousers, and the same hideous maroon jumper from yesterday. First things first, he was going to find some real clothes. "I'm throwing this thing away Ronald." he stated, as if Ron could hear him-and perhaps subconsciously he could, because Ron shifted slightly as he said the words. Draco reached over a hand, placing it lightly on Ron's feverish head, he sighed again. "Idiot." he whispered affectionately, his fingers trailed over Ron's eyes along his lashes before Draco pulled away completely, straightened and started towards the door. So long as he was up he would change, eat, and make his report.

He caught himself on the bottom of the bed as he stumbled. The break away from Ron would do him good. He wasn't stupid, he knew there was a chance Ron would die, and if Ron died and he was still as weak as he was, there was a chance he might die as well. He knew it could happen. It had almost happened-years ago, He had been the one in one of these beds half dead, and Ron-in stupid Gryfindor fashion had nearly killed himself bringing him back. One would have thought he would have grown out of being so stupid (in Draco's not so humble opinion, being noble was the highest form of stupidity-but of course there was no telling Ron that)

Draco himself would prefer that they both were alive, of course, but he wasn't about to nearly kill himself for anyone, even if that 'anyone' happened to be his partner, lover and on occasion, best friend. He left the medical room without a backwards glance-his mental, as well as physical exhaustion must be affecting him in some kind of adverse way-he could never recall feeling the need to take one last look back to make sure that Ron was still there.

As he made his way towards the rooms he and Ron shared he let his thoughts drift once again to the rather disturbing notion of a traitor among them. He didn't profess to know everyone in the organisation, but he knew enough, and he was fairly certain none of them would betray the Animagis to the Chirloc. Which left him with the uneasy feeling that there was something very strange going on. He knew that there was a team looking for the source of the Chirloc-a mission he and Ron would have been given but it had been decided they would be more of an asset on the location of potential targets and getting them into protective custody.

A waste of their talent, if Draco was to be completely honest. And it wasn't merely his 'overlarge ego' talking, as Ron was wont to call it. He knew that he and Ron were the best team in the whole organisation, he had never done anything by halves, it just wasn't his style-and Ron always had something to prove. They were well suited in that regard, and it showed in their work. They should have been given that mission-if he was right in his assumption that the other team had been captured and tortured for information. He would never have given up locations to the Chirloc-of that he was certain.

He pushed open the door to his and Ron's quarters, his feet had taken him there automatically without any input from his brain-which was most likely for the best as he was hardly concentrating on anything around him today. He felt like he hadn't slept in days, weeks even, and it was beginning to tell on him. What he needed was for Ron to wake up, move back in here so they could do the stupid 'cuddle' thing that made Ron relax and feel better, so they could move onto the sex that made him feel better.

He sighed as he reached the kitchen, he lifted the kettle, shoved it under the tap and filled it, slamming it onto the gas stove in the corner of the room, fiddling with the stupid muggle knobs (he still didn't know why they had the stupid thing-Ron was obviously taking after his stupid muggle loving father) finally a little flame lit under the kettle and he sighed in relief. Now to have a shower, find some decent clothes, have his tea, maybe some breakfast, and then he'd think about the rest of the day.

Twenty minutes later he was sitting on the sofa in the little living area nursing his cup of herbal tea, clearing his head. His wet hair was pulled over his shoulder, dampening his black polo neck jumper, but it just wasn't that important right now. Now he had to think about making his report to the council, and the nagging feeling of a spy among them just wouldn't go away.

He did briefly wonder, when he was about halfway through his cup, how Ron was doing, before shaking his head irritably and focusing once more on the task at hand. The council. He mulled it over for a while, finishing his tea. What exactly was he going to tell them? Usually he had Weasely for a sounding board, because not many people knew of his pinickidy ways when it came to reports-he needed to have ever little detail, no matter how insignificant, that way he could at least give an objective report. But he didn't have Weasely today, and he had to see the Council.

He sat his now empty mug on the coffee table and leaned back, closing his eyes briefly, thinking. When he finally moved to get up his joints ached slightly, and he frowned, annoyed. Deliberately pushing the discomfort away. It was all Potters fault, and the Weasels for making him take the damnable mission, and his own (he admitted it darkly) for ever allowing Ron to talk him into it. When had he grown soft enough to let Weasely walk all over him like that.

Dammit!

He flipped his still damp hair over his shoulder, not bothering to tie it back, just too tired to care if it ended up a tangled mess. He opened the door to the rooms and stepped out into the corridors of the Animagis base, turning towards the Council rooms.

He nodded to the secretary on the desk to the side of the Council rooms door. She smiled at him, a tad hopefully, which he ignored, and told him to go on inside. The Council was waiting for him. The council was made up of four members, the oldest Animagis partnerships in the whole organisation. It was a position Draco had every intention of obtaining one day--that was of course depending on whether Ron was likely to stop trying to get himself killed.

"Ah, Malfoy. The medic has already sent down word of Weasely's current state. Please make your report." a grey haired woman said, a kindly smile on her face. Draco hid his scowl at it. He didn't need this sympathy for the fact that his partner was unconscious in the infirmary. He supposed if Ron had been here instead he would have milked it for all it was worth.

"We picked up Potter, Granger and the child at the location you provided, we were attacked. Weasely managed to get Potter, Granger and the child to touch the portkey. We stayed and dealt with the two Chirloc before following. I was hit, and poisoned." he added, almost as an afterthought-thinking ahead of himself and irritably shooting Ron a 'I hope you bloody appreciate this you git!' before he skipped over Ron telling his old friends everything. "We spent the night at the safe house. In the morning we split into two groups, I took Potter, Weasely took Granger and the child. I do not yet know the details of Weasely's end of the mission save that he completed it and ended up badly injured. Myself and Potter however were attacked by several possessed muggles, I took ground animal form to get rid of them. After which we moved on quickly, only to be attacked once again, this time by a large and very strong Chirloc. I told Potter to hide and sealed the demon. We then continued on pick up the Portkey and arrived back here." he was annoyed, normally his report would have been more detailed, he would have been able to tell Ron's part, only being interrupted when Ron wanted to add something terribly unimportant. He was not pleased, but he couldn't bring himself to muster the strength to deal with it.

"Is that all Malfoy?" another of the four asked.

Draco shook his head. "No, I have reason to believe that there is either a spy in our midst or one of our own has been forced to give up the locations and area's we use when getting to the Portkey's. There is no way they could have had an attack that well prepared and waiting for us if they didn't know where we usually travelled." he said, voice crisp.

The four shared looks that told Draco he was right on one of the options he had given, but he knew he would never be told which. "We will look into this Malfoy." a man to the far left said, a grave look on his face.

"Perhaps you should rest. You have as long as it takes your partner to recover off Malfoy. Use it wisely." the woman who had spoke to him first said.

"We expect a written report as soon as possible also."

Draco nodded, nothing new there. He turned and left, still pondering over everything that had happened. He could isolate exactly where everything went so badly downhill-and unfortunately it wasn't when Ron had agreed to the case (as much as he would love to heap all the blame on Ron) no, it was when that Chirloc had poisoned him. There had to be something in that poison that had knocked him for a loop, because never could he remember feeling this goddamned tired afterwards-even with Ron injured and drawing off him.

He made it back to their rooms without noticing he had even been walking. He made his way to the sofa and sprawled across it, head propped up on the arm rest, staring at the ceiling with lidded eyes, his fingers probing his side where the Chirloc had cut and poisoned him, he could feel the faint scar through his top and checked a sigh.

Was it possible for the Chirloc to change their poison, to adapt in order to survive? He had been poisoned by a weaker demon, and despite the drain on his reserves from sealing the larger, he shouldn't have been affected this badly. Could whoever was controlling the demons be changing them? After all, whoever it was, was curbing their natural desires to spread dissention and destruction, could it also change their attacks?

It was something he would have to look into, scour the old texts in the library, old stories passed down by the Animagis, texts that related, in some vague way to the Chirloc. Yes, he had to look into it. Because he was not willing to be killed by some idiot demons who followed some insane madman. He refused to think of how he had once been like those idiot demons following an insane madman.

But first he needed to sleep, and badly.

His eyes closed and within seconds he was asleep.

X

"Hey doc!"

He groaned in annoyance at the voice that prodding him towards wakefulness. Awake was not something he wanted to be right now. Especially not with his splitting headache and those very irritating flushes going through him.

"I think he's waking up."

Like hell I am! He thought irritably, shifting a little to get more comfortable, willing himself to drop back into the blackness that hovered just out of his reach.

"oh come on! You've been sleeping for days! And you call me lazy!"

His brow crinkled a little and he let his eyes open a little until he could just about make out whoever was standing leaning over him. Once he knew he mumbled a barely coherent "Go 'way." before promptly closing his eyes again.

He felt a hand come to rest on his forehead and he let out a sigh of frustration and opened his eyes again. "What?" he asked.

Blue eyes blinked down at him, and a smile stretched the red heads lips, a concerned one, but a smile. "You're still a little feverish. The doc found you collapsed in our rooms when he went to get you when I woke up, you've been out for ages now." Ron sat down heavily on the bed beside Draco. "Thought you said you were never going to let yourself to be drained to the point of death?"

"I did." Draco responded quietly.

"Well you did a pretty lousy job of it." Ron said with his far too concerned smile, and Draco didn't like it at all.

"What the hell is going on?" he asked, his irritation shining through.

"Doc say's you went into the coma because I was draining you for energy to heal my wounds. He also said you were fighting off the remnants of the poison yourself-from when the Chirloc got you." his eyes narrowed slightly. "Why the hell didn't you tell me you weren't healed properly?"

Draco snorted and pushed himself into a sitting position, he disliked having Ron tower over him like that--even though their height difference made it non-negotiable most of the time. "Because you would have been an idiot about it Weasely." he said, reaching for the glass of water that stood on the table beside the infirmary bed he was in.

"I would have been an idiot? Who was the one walking round not healed? You could have screwed up the whole mission, Malfoy." Ron shot back, only the concern in his eyes making his words less biting.

Draco closed his eyes, and did his best to fight down his raging headache, sipping the water slowly. "But I didn't. So shut up."

Ron's eyes narrowed into a glare. "I will not shut up. Dammit Draco--!" he was at a loss for what to say, because he doubted anything would get through to his partner.

Draco opened his eyes and looked at Ron, studying him finally. He was pale, still not fully healed, but enough that he didn't need to drain off him now, which was a blessing--because Draco didn't think he could give much more. He was still bandaged up, the bandages showing through the t-shirt he was wearing.

At least he was alive, Draco thought to himself tiredly. The bother of training up a replacement partner would just be so much more hassle than it was worth.

"Draco?" Ron said softly.

"What?"

Ron's hand reached out again to brush across his forehead, under his fringe. "You should probably rest some more."

Draco rolled his eyes, hadn't that been what he had been trying to do when Ron had woken him up, but he didn't have the energy to tell him so, but he mustered up enough to think it to him very clearly, before allowing himself to slide back under the blanket and closing his eyes. He would get to that research later on, when he felt a little more human.

Ron watched Draco drift off again and sighed. Now he knew why Draco had stormed round for days after that time he had been almost killed, slamming doors, letting very heavy books drop to land with a very loud thump on tables, the venom hidden in every word he said. He (Ron) had let himself slip into the same kind of coma Draco had been in, letting Draco draw as much as he needed, and more, to bring him back from the brink of death. When Draco had found out he hadn't been pleased in the slightest--hence the door slamming and book thumping.

Ron knew it had been Draco's way of telling him that he had been an idiot and that he shouldn't have done it. But in the end it had been worth it. He wasn't sure Draco had done it intentionally or not, but either way Ron felt the need to strangle him for doing it. He definitely knew how Draco had felt. To wake up to find your partner had gone into a coma and made themselves ill for you didn't sit well with him. When he was sure Draco was asleep he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek--something Draco would have thrown a fit over had he been aware of it.

He slid off the bed and shuffled across the small space to his own bed, his chest still hurt a lot, and his arm was still bandaged and in a sling, and he was still dead tired, but all in all he was feeling much better than he felt he had any right to feel after that attack. He climbed into bed with a few grumbled and the odd winch and settled down. He hated being the one who was ill, it was just easier if it was Draco. Coming from such a large family had instilled a need to be useful and help others, and he liked puttering around and being generally domestic when Draco was the one confined to bed (not that he would ever tell Draco so).

He sighed to himself as he lay there. The next few days would be pretty damn difficult.

He let sleep overtake him.


	7. Chapter 7

_Righto everyone, next chapter up. I hope you like. Just a quiet moment between our darlings Draco and Ron. Hope you enjoy. I would set it up more but I happen to have a little brother standing over me complaining he wants to use the computer. So read it, enjoy, and give me lots or positive feedback. Because I love feedback of the positive kind. Lol. Anyway, seriously, enjoy._

_Chapter 7_

Two days later found the two Animagis back in their rooms. Ron, on bed rest until the cuts on his chest healed completely, a slow process due to the shear amount of poison that had been inside him; while Draco had been all but ordered to take it easy, the medic not happy with the way he had just collapsed. However, Draco's method of 'taking it easy' was about as accurate as Ron's idea of 'bed rest'. which was to say, neither did it.

Ron was puttering about in the kitchen, probably making something to eat, he never seemed to be able to go more than an hour when he was ill without eating. So he was up and he was moving, cooking himself something, because he had found that it calmed his nerves and left him feeling less likely to explode when he was on 'bed rest', and besides, if he waited for Draco to cook him anything he'd starve to death. Just because some people could survive on tea alone did not mean everyone could. Not that Draco seemed to care much.

Draco was currently perched on the sofa, a pile of heavy tomes on the ground beside him, it probably would have been easier to just have read them in the library, but he hated to admit, that the atmosphere in his and Ron's room was much more comfortable than the dusty library. So he had lugged the five heavy books up six flights of stairs, dumped them on the floor and started reading.

When Ron emerged from the kitchen with what had to be his fourth meal of the morning (the very thought made Draco vaguely ill), he looked at Draco sitting cross legged on the sofa, book open on his lap, a pair of small delicate reading glasses perched on top of his nose. The sight of it made him smile a little, imagining Draco as some little old librarian. Not hard given his height.

Ron struggled to smother a laugh.

Draco looked over at him, raising an eyebrow. "What seems to be the problem?"

Ron shook his head. "Nothing, nothing. You know, I think those books don't count as 'taking it easy', your supposed to be resting, not working. What are you looking up anyway?"

"Well, technically you should be on bed rest, but here you are, cooking your fourth breakfast if I'm not mistaken." Draco responded, his tone a cross between teasing and sarcasm. "And I'm trying to find out if the Chirloc can change their attacks, poison doesn't normally linger so long unless accompanied by severe physical or mental strain, and unless you count the fact that we had to collect Potter and Granger, I don't think I was suffering from either."

Ron blinked at the torrent of information. "Oh, ok. Maybe it was the child Draco. You seemed pretty stressed about it as I recall." he said it with a smile. "And I can't afford to be on bed rest, you'd starve me. Which reminds me, where is my proper Irish Ulster fry up, you haven't made me one yet."

"I doubt somehow it was the child Ronald." Draco said, not looking up from the passage he was studying. "And I refuse to make you any kind of breakfast for being stupid enough to let yourself be almost killed by a demon. You were clumsy and you know it."

"I am not clumsy! I was just a little too close when I was sealing it was all. And I made you your stupid tea when you were poisoned." Ron complained. "Hey, maybe it was the tea that prolonged the poison." he suggested with an evil smirk.

Draco sighed, exasperated, looking at Ron who had seated himself beside him. "You were clumsy, you know better than to seal that close to a demon. And as for the tea, you make it for me because you want to. I don't make you do it. And I had the tea when the poison was leaving my system, so it wasn't it."

"You are such a liar!" Ron exclaimed. "You always make me make you tea! It's about time you start pulling some weight around here Draco! And I'm not clumsy!"

Draco rolled his eyes and went back to reading. "Yes, you are, now stop acting like a child." he was silent for a few second, but Ron knew he wasn't done talking, so he waited, eating his fourth breakfast. "Besides, even if I wanted to pull some weight around here--which I don't--I would have a long way to go to catch up to you."

Ron gaped at him for a second. "Are you saying I'm fat?"

Draco smirked, but kept his eyes trained on the book. "Yes." hearing Ron splutter was amusing to say the least.

After a while of total silence, in which Ron had finished his breakfast, washed the dish and sat back down, watching Draco still pour over the books, his eyes narrowed in concentration behind the thin rimmed glasses. "So, found anything yet?" he asked finally.

Draco shook his head, probably more of a subconscious reply than anything else. Finally he closed the book. "Nothing." the thoughtful expression that caught his features wasn't one that could be easily distinguished from his pissed off face, unless you happened to notice his eyes were staring through you and not at you. "There has to be something though."

"Like what though?" Ron asked, leaning back, ignoring the slight twinge in his chest.

"I don't know Weasely. If I knew I'd be telling you, not asking the bloody question." Draco snapped.

Ron rolled his eyes, he hadn't reacted to that kind of snapping from Draco in a long time, he knew now that he didn't mean it, it was just a continuation of his thoughts, which Ron often guessed snapped at Draco a lot.

"Any idea's on your whole spy theory?"

Draco frowned at him, his train of thought interrupted. "Spy? No, there's no one here that would willingly go over to the Chirloc, and I know what spy's are like. No. all this started when they got organised. I think its more likely that the team they set to find who was controlling the Chirloc was captured and gave up the information during torture."

"You still think we should have gotten that mission don't you?" Ron said it as a question, but they both knew it was a statement of a fact.

"Of course we should have!" Draco said, tone bitter. "We're the best damn team they have here and we got stuck on babysitting duty. T is a waste of our talent, and you know it."

Ron shrugged. "I'm glad we were on 'baby sitting duty', at least for the last one."

Draco rolled his eyes. "That is because you still have a huge crush on Potter and Granger Weasely." he snorted.

"On both of them? Usually it's one or other of them Draco, when did I get upgraded to threesome material here?" Ron laughed.

Draco shuddered at the mere idea of that. "Don't ever say that again Weasely or you will never share a bed with me ever again. Have I made that clear." he made a sound that sounded suspiciously like an "Ugh!" before reaching for another book from the pile. The thought of Ron in bed with either Potter or Granger was bad enough, but the stuff of nightmares was the disgusting image he could not get out of his head now.

Ron grinned, it wasn't often he got to see that look of total disgust cross Draco's face, and the fact that Draco had set himself up for it was too perfect. It made him wish Draco hadn't broken his camera when he'd found out he had taken a picture of him drooling in his sleep. Let it not be said that Ron Weasely did not back up his claims with hard evidence.

_Review? Please…._


	8. Chapter 8

_Okay, I want lots of reviews for this folks, your slacking off on that front. Sorry for the long wait, I've had this written for a while, I just keep forgetting to post it. You know, I noticed that I have a really weird way of writing Ron and Draco having two completely separate conversations at once, and I don't know why. Sigh. Anyway, enjoy this chapter and REVIEW! Dammit!_

_Chapter 8_

Just over a week later found Draco and Ron with a summons to the council, to which they responded with a mixture of reactions. Ron had barely just been pronounced fit for duty, and he didn't think that the three hundred and forty five sit-up's he had done last night counted as his return to fitness. He wasn't used to being quite so immobile as he had been the past week, and would have preferred more time to get himself back in shape. Draco had of course laughed at him, seated on the sofa and drinking his tea, jibing him at every available opportunity. Draco's reaction to the summons was very different, he wavered between curiosity at what the next mission was, annoyance in case it was yet another baby-sitting job, and faint hope that maybe they were going to get the big mission. It was about bloody time.

"Please sit down, Malfoy, Weasley."

They were motioned to seats almost as soon as they entered the room. Ron took his and leaned back, in a confidence he had learnt over his years, after he had grown past the awkwardness of his youth and trying to please everyone else. Draco was slightly more formal, though the crossed arms and almost glare made the whole image amusing, well, to Ron at least.

"We have a new mission for you."

Draco checked himself before he rolled his eyes, why they always had to start off a mission briefing like that he couldn't even begin to fathom--just handing them a folder with all the information, or telling them straight off the bat what was going on he would understand. But telling them why they had been called, even though it was obvious… well, it was idiotic to say the least.

"Your assumptions were correct Malfoy."

Draco looked up at this, gaze focusing on the black-haired man behind the desk, the youngest council member. "They were?" he asked, not really needing to ask which of them it was. He heard Ron shift in the seat beside him.

"Which one?" he asked, Draco had told him his theories, on both the spy and the last team.

"The last team we sent out to search for the controller of the Chirloc has disappeared. They did not report in two days ago at the scheduled time, their last report was made over a week previously, two day before you were attacked."

"So you believe they were captured and tortured into giving up the information?" Draco asked without the hesitation that others tended to display when they thought about, or uttered the word 'torture', it was like a taboo word, it ranked right up there with 'Voldermort'. It was rather irritating being the only ex-deatheater in the entire organisation sometimes, one could just not have a decent conversation about torture and death, especially not when the only person one actually conversed with happened to be an ex-order member.

Ron winched a little at the idea of anyone being tortured to give up information, it had always been a sore point for him. He saw the council member nod.

"So you want us to take the mission?" Draco asked.

Ron left the talking to Draco, he normally did. It seemed the easier option, Draco sometimes got annoyed when he started asking questions about the mission from the council, because apparently none of his questions were ever relevant. So Ron let Draco question, listening intently, and readying himself for the mission.

"Yes, we do. We need you to locate the Chirloc headquarters, wherever they may be, find who is controlling them and how. And stop them."

"Do we have the last teams information?" Draco asked.

The man tapped the file on the table in front of him. "All here."

"And the other team?"

"We must assume they are dead. However, if you do find them alive they are to be taken back here immediately. But priority must go to the mission. Find who is controlling the Chirloc and stop them. We need an even playing field if we hope to stop the Chirloc once and for all."

Draco nodded thoughtfully, eyes distant for a moment, before they sharpened and he got to his feet, striding over and taking the file. Ron got up as well and followed him. "we accept." was all Draco said, his eyes darted round the four council members and he nodded to each before he turned and left. Ron offered a more general nod and a smile before following.

Draco already had the file open as he walked, eyes narrowed as he read. Ron strode up behind him and took the file from him with a smile. "Don't pretend like you can actually read the thing." he looked at it himself.

Draco raised an eyebrow at him. "I'm hardly illiterate Ronald." he said with sarcasm lacing his tone.

"No, but you can't see what's on the page without your glasses." Ron smirked, scanning over the notes, not really taking much in as he needed to concentrate on where he was going, the last thing he needed was Draco ribbing him because he had walked into something, not when he had every intention of doing the teasing himself.

Draco rolled his eyes. "I only need them for the old books from the library, and you know it. Now give me the file." he held out his hand expectantly.

Ron hid his grin. "Come on now Draco, I saw you squinting at the instructions on the back of your box of tea."

"There are a number of things wrong with that statement Ronald, the first being that I don't have a box of tea, it gets thrown out and the tea bags are in the tea jar, the second is the mere idea that I would have to look at the instructions to brew tea at all. The third being that I don't squint." he eyed Ron, his voice a bored drawl. "Now give me the file."

Ron snapped the file closed and tucked it under his arm, grinning at Draco. "If that's what you want to believe Draco, that's fine. If you hadn't broken my camera I could have given you hard evidence."

Draco's eyes narrowed. He remembered that blasted camera, and the blasted pictures. But he chose not to say anything, it was what Weasley wanted, what he expected, some kind of retort. Well, never let it be said that Draco Malfoy was predicable.

X

"They seemed to have some kind of serious lead," Draco said later, after he had poured over the file, seated on the sofa, Ron sprawled out beside him. "Were going to meet with a contact."

"Contact was a trap?" Ron suggested.

"Maybe." Draco said, but he didn't look convinced.

"Ok, so Contact wasn't a trap, they were followed."

"Maybe." Draco repeated, frowning at the document in his hands. "They were scheduled to meet this Contact two days after they made their report. Chances are they never met whoever it was, unless they succumbed to torture almost immediately. The scale of planning it took to get those Chirloc in position, and they were probably at every known route we could have taken, it would take at least a day, maybe more."

"Any info on the Contact?" Ron asked, shying away from talking about what might have happened to the other team, the ease Draco had with that sort of thing gave him the shivers sometimes.

Draco shook his head. "None, just that they were to meet them, get some information. They got the location from another contact they mention earlier, so it's safe to bet they didn't know anything."

"So the Chirloc found out about the search and struck first." Ron said, mulling it over.

"The last contact could have been a set-up completely, the last one they saw--Melbon--could have set it up as trap…" Draco trailed off, thinking.

Ron watched him. "Any preference on how we start then?" he asked after a moment, itching to get out there.

"We take the last known location and play it by ear. You should enjoy that." Draco said, smirking.

Ron rolled his eyes. "Why do I have the feeling you're making fun of me again."

"It's entirely your own fault for being too easy." Draco drawled, a hint of a feral smile on his face.

Ron gave him a frowning look, he knew exactly what was going through Draco's head. "Malfoy, we have a case, remember, finding the Chirloc's secret hideout. Effective immediately, like missions usually are." he pointed out dryly.

"We're not leaving until I check a few things out anyway." Draco said, leaning forward, hand sliding up and along Ron's chest to his shoulder, where his fingers tightened.

Ron hid his half smile and asked. "Ah, and those things would be what exactly? Given that this is a high priority case?"

Draco shrugged slender shoulders, balancing himself with his hand on Ron's shoulder while his other hand snaked down to rest at the top of Ron's jeans, his eyes never leaving Ron's. "the location for one, needs to be scoped for any adverse magical fields." he said.

"Ah yes." Ron said sardonically. "Because the other team wouldn't have done that and put it in their report." but his hands were moving, of their own accord entirely, to rest on Draco's thighs, kneading them with his thumbs as Draco's hand made quick work of the button on his jeans, and the zip.

"You know as well as I do that magical fields can occur instantaneously. Or would you prefer to arrive and suddenly find you can't do magic?"

"ok, you've got me there. But that could be done now, so why don't we go already?" Ron asked with a smirk.

"Because I also have to do a quick run through in the library." Draco told him, sliding the jeans down, glad when Ron raised his hips enough for him to pull them down, his hand going back up for the boxers.

Ron shifted slightly, and his hands moved, refusing to let Draco have all the fun. "Oh?" he asked. "And what do you need the library for?"

Draco's lips twitched lightly, curving slightly upwards. "There's a book down there on old meeting places of the Chirloc. I need to check if any are close to where we're going."

Ron shoved Draco's trousers down with one hand and pushed his shirt up with the other. "Thought you'd already read all the books, and memorised them?"

"I did." Draco replied, trailing his fingers along the tops of Ron's legs, teasing. "Do try to be careful of my shirt Ronald, I'm beginning to think you have an obsession with ruining them."

"If you memorised them then why do you need to check them again, you should know if the location is anywhere near one." Ron got annoyed when the shirt didn't stay where it was put and started to undo the buttons, popping one or two off, just to annoy Draco. "I do have an obsession with ruining them."

Draco stilled suddenly, fingers just inches away from where Ron would have liked them to be. "Why on earth would you want to ruin my shirts?" he asked it with a kind of abject wonder, as if he just couldn't fathom the answer. "And I need to check to make sure. You know, planning ahead, perhaps keeping one step ahead and alive. Not that you would know anything about that, you rush headlong into everything."

Much to Ron's relief Draco's fingers started to move again, and he arched slightly. "I like ruining your shirts, you get all angry when I do." he grinned, hands gripping Draco's sides. "I'm not reckless Draco. I do plan ahead. Just admit you're a perfectionist, you need to double check things a thousand times before your happy." his grin turned sly. "You know, that kind of makes you like Hermione."

Draco froze at the obvious (in his opinion) insult, eyes narrowing at Ron, glaring. Ron took his chance, throwing Draco off balance and sending them both crashing to the ground in between the sofa and the coffee table. And Ron was on top, exactly where he wanted to be.

"You call that planning ahead?" Draco asked, head cocking to the side. "And one more mention of Granger--or Potter, for that matter and--"

"And what Draco?" Ron said. "What are you gonna do? You can't turn the tables on this one."

Draco smirked. "Wanna bet?" he asked evilly, he grabbed a fistful of Ron's hair and dragged him downwards, legs wrapping round Ron's middle, jerking him down until they were just a tangle of limbs on the floor.


	9. Chapter 9

_Disclaimer: Don't own._

_I owe you all a lot of apologies for taking so long to update, I honestly don't know what happened, I think I just lost my drive a bit. So sorry, and I hope you enjoy this update. Things start to get interesting now, very, very interesting, and shall continue to in later chapters, so just bear with me._

_Chapter 9_

By the time the two had untangled themselves and Draco had done all that he had said he would do, it was late afternoon, bordering on evening, before they arrived at the location. It was a small town in the middle of the English countryside, as far away from proper civilisation as anywhere could ever be. The place consisted of about ten houses, a bar and a post office, surrounded on all sides by fields.

"Nice." Ron commented with a slight smiled. "Will his highness be able to handle it if we have to sleep with farm animals tonight?"

Draco's lips thinned and he glared at Ron, something about this place had already set him on edge, it was almost something familiar, but not. "Shut up Weasley." he snapped.

Ron frowned suddenly. "What's the matter?" he asked.

Draco shook his head. "I don't know… Go check the public house, try and find out if the contact is still here--anyone who knows the name Melbon." he said, turning to look at the fields around them. There were no Chirloc meeting places close to here, though 'meeting place' wasn't exactly the proper term, more a 'come and bring as many hosts as possible so they can be killed in interesting and gory ways places' was more accurate. Reminded him a little of the old days, though he himself had never partaken in such acts, only animals slaughtered for sport.

"And what are you going to do?" Ron asked.

"I'm going to take a look around… there's just something not quite right about the area." his eyes narrowed, he was searching for something he knew he would probably not find. It was the feeling of familiarity that was getting to him, that he didn't like. He always had hated surprises.

"Sure." Ron said. "Don't do anything stupid ok."

Draco turned to him, eyebrow raised. "I believe we've been through this before Ronald. I am not you, don't assume."

Ron gave a small laugh. "Fine, fine, go. I'm going contact hunting. What was the name again?"

Draco stifled a sigh. "Melbon, and you're looking for someone who recognises the name. I trust you won't say anything stupid."

"Now, now Draco, since when have I ever messed up a mission by saying the wrong thing?" Ron said, beginning to move away.

Draco shook his head. "More time's than I care to count you idiot Weasel."

"See ya Ferret, happy hunting!" was Ron's reply as he headed towards the little pub.

Draco shook his head again before casting his eyes around him once again. Finally he chose the left field as it seemed to have the least number of sheep in it. The horrid little creatures reminded him once again why he was a vegetarian. They looked just as ugly alive as they did dead.

His trek took him up a small hill, the evening was drawing closer, so the shadows had lengthened and his let a small part of his consciousness focus on them, the way they twisted, like old twisted fingers reaching for him, and that sense of familiarity got stronger. It annoyed him, he wanted to know what it was, because in the twelve years he had been with the Animagis he had never felt this. His past had never come back to haunt him, and he had been glad in a way, it made working within the confines of the organisation easier, and his working relations with Ron smoother.

But, knowing his luck as of late he shouldn't be at all surprised by this feeling, first it had been Potter and Granger, then his injuries, Ron's injuries, and now this… no he shouldn't be surprised at all.

He continued onwards, cresting the hill, he looked down at the expanse of land spread out below him, eyes scanning for anything that could have brought on his unease… Actually, come to think of it he couldn't ever remember feeling this uneasy, unless he had been with--

"Hello Draco…"

X

Ron entered the little pub and was greeted by silence, the likes of which normally falls in a small pub in the back of beyond when a stranger walks in. he knew why he had been given this task, despite Draco's earlier words, it was because Draco hated having to deal with what he referred to as 'the peasant folk', rather quaint for Draco, though the snobby tone made up for it entirely.

"Hi, a friend of mine told me I could meet someone up here." he said cheerfully.

The bar-keep looked at him, cleaning a glass. "An' what would this friend o' yours be called, and who you supposed to be meeting."

Ron's eyes landed on the man, and knew instantly that this was the contact. "Melbon's my friends name, he never gave me a name I'm afraid, know anyone I can talk to about it?" he asked.

The bar-keep shook his head. "Nope, anyone?" he asked the other patrons, a few old men, all of whom shook their heads.

Ron heaved a purely theatrical sigh. "Shame that. Mind if I stop for a pint?" he questioned, his smile letting the man know he knew who he was.

The bar-keep shrugged. "If you've got the money to pay you can have whatever you want from the bar." he said.

Ron moved forward, glancing at the beer rack. "Guinness." he said.

"You Irish or something?" the man asked.

Ron smiled. "Nothing of the sort, a friend of mine was though, got me hooked on the stuff."

The bar-keep smiled, but there was slightly strained edge to it, as he waited for the Guinness to set he lowered his voice until only Ron could here. "You Animagis?"

Ron nodded. "Some of our group was supposed to meet with you a week ago, do you know what happened to them?" he asked, voice equally low, lips barely moving.

"They didn't show up. Do you want the information?" the bar-keep asked.

Ron nodded.

The man went back to the glass of Guinness, finishing it off, sliding a drinks mat under it as he set it down. Ron slid it out from under the drink, smiling at the man and slipping ti into his pocket. He lifted the pint and took a long drink. It had been a while since he had had any, Seamus would be disappointed. He raised the glass slightly in a toast to his dearly departed friend before drinking again.

He supposed he would have to leave soon to find Draco, tell him he got the information, they could review it and find out just what was going on and where they have to go next. He took another gulp and sat the glass down, smiling his thanks to the bar-keep, throwing down the muggle money he carried for just this reason. He had just closed the door of the pub behind him when something sharp and painful lanced through his skull.

"Draco…?" he questioned aloud, putting a hand to his head as the pain receded suddenly. Something was wrong. He took off from the ground in an instant, his Animagis air beast taking form and circled high, hoping to spot Draco's blond hair, a dead giveaway to where he was.

There! He spiralled towards it.

X

Draco hadn't had the chance to react before the was being held within the bound chaos of the Chirloc, claws millimetres from piercing his skin. He glared up from under his fringe at the one man from his past he would have preferred to stay there.

"Draco." came the oh so familiar drawl.

"Father." Draco answered.

His father frowned at him, his features settling into disappointment, his eyes glittering with the madness of Askaban, though he had only been there for a short time. "Why did you abandon the cause Draco? Why fake your death like that?"

Draco strained for a moment against the Chirloc, but the grip was tightened so he stopped. "I didn't fake my death!" he snapped, "I thought I was dead. And I would never abandon the cause! You know that!"

Lucius blinked at him, reaching over, lifting Draco's chin until he was forced to look into his fathers glittering eyes. He tried to pull back but Lucius' fingers tightened bruisingly. "I don't know that." he said finally. "all I know is that things were going a little badly and then we got word of your death. Death would have been acceptable, but abandoning the cause to join with our enemy… that is unacceptable Draco, and you know that."

Draco grit his teeth. Was his father listening to nothing he was saying. He had never abandoned the damn cause! But he was an Animagis now, he had a new cause, was part of something else. Besides, Voldermort was dead. There was no more cause. "I never joined the enemy father." he spat, jerking out of his fathers grip finally. "I was loyal to the Dark Lord, and if he was still alive I still would be. But he's not! He's dead. There is no cause anymore."

"That's where you're wrong son, there is still a cause. There always will be."

"What have you got to do with the Chirloc father?" he demanded instead, earning himself a slap across the cheek he hadn't received in years and his eyes narrowed.

"You betrayed the cause, betrayed the Dark Lord, and you expect me to allow you to ask questions?" Lucius glared at him.

Draco took a deep breath, angry. "For the love of--I betrayed no one! I was loyal to the Dark Lord right up until the end! Regardless of where I was and what I was doing! Now what have you got to do with the Chirloc!?"

Lucius smirked at him. "Now what have I taught you about being nosy Draco?" he asked.

Draco's eye twitched. Right about now would be a good time for Ron to show up and get rid of this damn Chirloc so he could strangle his goddamned father! He was not a child anymore, and he was not about to be treated like one. He was about to say something, do something, anything, when the Chirloc, on some signal from his father, began to crush him. All his breath left him in a gasp and he grimaced in pain, biting back his pride and calling to Ron through the link they shared.

X

Ron had arrived and was about to attack when he had heard Draco's words, proclaiming his allegiance to Voldermort, and that brought him to a stop, hovering just out of reach, unseen, frozen by the words. It wasn't until he saw Draco gasp, and grimace in very obvious pain, and heard the pained cry in his head, did he move. Diving down, distracting the Chirloc enough that it loosened it's hold on Draco and dropped him.

He landed and the bird was replaced by the tiger and he leapt to the attack.

Draco, who had immediately tried to launch an attack on his father, found him gone, he searched the area with his eyes, but there was no sign of him. He turned back to where he could hear Ron taking on the demon. He deftly cut his symbol in the air and released it, it blazed into the demon, sealing it quickly, fuelled by Draco's anger.

But when Ron was back to being himself and turned to Draco, eyes blazing in an anger Draco had not seen in almost nine years, not since the first year they had worked together. And he cursed inwardly.

Someone up there hated him right now, that was the only reason his luck could possibly be this bad.

_Review please, I'll love you forever if you do!_


	10. Chapter 10

_Hope you enjoy--aren't you lucky for this update so soon. Don't worry, Draco is in no way weak in this story, Ron isn't going to be able to get the upper hand for too long. At any rate, enjoy and reveiw, and things get even more exciting and stuff... um, yeah... have fun, and reveiw!!!!_

_Chapter 10_

"You!" Ron said, eyes narrowing in anger, he felt betrayed, in a way he had never even expected. "you were 'loyal to the Dark Lord right up until the end'? Regardless of where you were and what you were doing?"

Draco levelled a glare at him, he hadn't heard that tone in years, and he wasn't about to stand for it now, just like he hadn't stood for it then. But he realised they needed to stay calm, they had a mission to complete, and a lot of things to think about--the most predominate being what Lucius Malfoy had to do with the Chirloc. Besides, Ron was hell to calm down once he was angry enough.

"Of course I was. Did you forget that I was a Deatheater by choice Weasley?" Draco asked, voice taking on a hint of mild curiosity. Surely that could not be it, because if it was he was not going to be pleased.

Ron was literally made speechless by that, he couldn't believe it, and he hated to admit that he had forgotten. And what was worse, he couldn't believe he had forgotten… no, that wasn't true, he had never forgotten, had always known Draco was a Deatheater, he had just somehow managed to push it aside… but when? And how? Right now it seemed as if Draco had just betrayed him in the worst possible way. "Of course I didn't forget!" he spluttered finally. "But--"

"But nothing." Draco cut him off sharply. "now, if that's all, we have things to do."

If Draco had wanted to keep Ron from getting angry he had failed, being interrupted and having what he considered major concerns just brushed under the mat like that gave rise to his suspicions, made them all more true. "They can wait." Ron spat angrily. "You supported You-know-who all this time?" it wasn't really a question, more an accusation.

Draco bit back a sigh. "Of course I did Weasley. I supported the Dark Lord just like you supported your 'blessed' Order."

"That was different!" Ron stated, eyes narrowed. It had been a long time since he had been confused and angry enough to have no idea what he was going to say or do.

Draco quirked an eyebrow. "How so?" he asked, pushing down his own rising temper. He had heard all this before, he could remain calm, had to remain calm, or something would happen that could never un-happen, and then he would have to train up a new partner.

"We were the good guys!" Ron almost yelled.

"Were you?" Draco asked, his tone condescending. "As far as I was aware your Order was an organisation full of bumbling idiots, lead by the king of all bumbling idiots. However, I don't see how allegiances from over ten years ago have any bearing on what is happening right now." he brushed a strand of hair away from his eyes.

"You told… you said you were loyal to you-know-who!" Ron snapped, as if that was the answer to everything.

Draco pursed his lips, his patience wearing incredibly thin. They had far more important things to deal with, and he intended to deal with them. "Of course I said I was loyal to _Voldermort_, because I was. I followed and supported my side in that war just like you did yours, so I don't see what your problem is. So unless it is a damn good one, one that affects how you work for instance, we have things to do!"

Ron spluttered for a minute. He knew, in the back of his head, that what Draco was saying was true, he had followed the progress of the war, cheered the victories for his side. But he had never seen or heard Draco do the same…

"but… I thought…" Ron stuttered, thoroughly confused now.

Draco bit back a full fledged scowl, letting only the barest hint show. He couldn't believe this at all. "You thought what? That jus because I didn't flaunt the Dark Lords victories, didn't rub your face in your defeats, didn't take my anger out on you when my side lost a battle, that I didn't support them. If that was true we wouldn't have spent the first two years of our working relationship trying to get past allegiances. I did not enjoy that time, and I will not stand for it again." he practically seethed now. "Now--we have a job to do, so get over your petty grievances and lets to it!"

Ron's confusion didn't clear, but changed into anger. "I'll not take orders from you!" he grit out to stop himself from yelling.

"Oh, that's rich Ronald, you've been doing it for ten years already, why stop now." Draco knew he was allowing himself to be drawn in the argument. H knew he shouldn't. knew he should turn around and leave, give Ron a chance to cool his head before he tried again. But then again, He could do that and Ron could have let it fester and the argument could be worse. That was the reason he would give for allowing himself to be goaded into the fight. In truth it was his pride that wouldn't let him back down right now. Weasley had pushed too far this time.

Ron growled deep in his throat, struggling to keep his magic in. Using every single shred of self control he had left in him he turned his back on Draco and walked away, well, stormed away is perhaps more appropriate. "I don't work with deatheaters!"

X

Ron reached the streets of the town. He had hoped his angry storming would have calmed him down a little, but it hadn't. he knew, logically, that all this had been said before, that this very same argument had been had before. That he had stormed off exactly like this years ago. He stopped and slumped against the nearest fence and blew out a sudden sigh.

How had he gone through eight years not remembering that Draco was one of the bad guys? How had he lost that anger at him? It just didn't make sense. If he was to consider, which he really didn't want to, he could probably have rationalised that after the war it just wasn't as important that Draco had been a deatheater. They had been sleeping together by then so the lines were blurred. That was it. The lines just got blurred, and now they were focused again.

That was it.

So why was he still so bloody confused!?

Ron's thoughts were turned inward so much that he didn't notice the Chirloc before it was too late to put some distance between them. He tried to take off, put the distance of the sky between them while he gathered himself for the attack. The claw round his leg stopped that idea short and he was dragged back down and thrown to the ground.

"Don't kill him." came the drawl.

Ron's eyes flashed up, almost glad when he saw it was Lucius. Draco sounded almost exactly the same. Though he shouldn't have been surprised. Like father and son after all.

He tried to struggle up, but the Chirloc forced him down. His head cracked against the ground, and consequently a small stone and his vision blurred. He tried to pull himself up again, but couldn't. there was a throbbing there, and he couldn't stop it when the Chirloc lifted him on Lucius' order. The next jostle sent a shot of pain rattling through his skull and his vision went black.


	11. Chapter 11

_Ok, I am well aware that this is my first update in an age. I cannot promise you that I will update soon, but I am working on the next chapter, and hope to have the first part of this story completed soon. This Chapter is a little off, and I will go over it at a later date and make it more in the style it should be. I'm just getting myself re-used to the story and the Cjharacters in this chapter, and the next. I hope it's entertaining though._

_Well, read, review and enjoy._

_Chapter 11_

It took a great effort for Draco not to explode at Ron as he walked away. He could not believe the nerve of him _'I don't work with deatheaters' _indeed. What had he thought he was working with for ten years, a pixie? Draco unclenched his hands, that he had balled into fists to stop himself from letting his magic take over and doing what he had done eight years ago, though Weasley would have deserved it.

He bit back a sigh. Knowing he would have to go after the red-head, they did have a job to do after all, no matter what petty differences had been raised. He also knew, without a shadow of a doubt that Ron would most likely get himself into trouble, especially as he was confused and very angry. Without warning he pushed himself off the ground and took to the air in his falcon form, a silver blur in the dark sky.

He kept an eye out for Ron, he knew better that to confront him again. He slowed down until he was hovering lightly in the air. He had honestly thought all this was behind them. He hadn't even really thought about it in years, he had never really thought about it at all since they had started working together. He had had two years at that point to come to terms with being an Animagis, to realise he no longer had an allegiance to the dark lord, he could support that side in the war like one supported a team at a Quiddich match, not the way Ron had supported his side.

Perhaps they should have discussed it, or something… But it wasn't in Draco's nature to talk things like this over. He had just accepted it when Ron had stopped being hostile, it was easier than dredging it all back up, especially when they would have to work together until one of them was dead. It was Animagis law, once partners, always partners. They had worked themselves into a rather comfortable working relationship…

Damn Lucius!

It was then that he caught sight of Ron and his father and the Chirloc. He hovered and watched them carefully. This was the difference between himself and Ron; where Ron rushed in immediately, in rather typical Gryffindor fashion, swinging his fists like an idiot. Draco assessed the situation, considered everything before attacking. It had been the source of more than a few arguments over the years. That and the fact that he always seemed to put himself in the most danger.

He swooped lower, watching as his father ordered the Chirloc not to kill Ron. It took only a few seconds for the Chirloc to subdue and disappear with Ron. He landed in the spot they had all once stood, he searched the back of his mind for the slight link that bound one Animagis to the other. The link that made it possible for them to share healing energy between them. This link also made it possible for him to find Ron if he had to suddenly apperate. It couldn't be forced, so if one of them was captured the other couldn't be found. He closed his eyes briefly, concentrated. When his grey eyes opened he shook out his pendant symbol round his wrist, wrapping long fingers around it and apperated.

He was forced to stop outside a magical barrier; it was created by the Chirloc, and not even an Animagis could break through that barrier unless their animal form took over. He looked round quickly, but there was nothing around him that gave him any cause for concern--aside from a rather disgruntled looking sheep. Ignoring the animl he sought out any sign of a Chirloc meeting place, or a building, anything that could let him know where they might be keeping Ron. Depending on the number of Chirloc here he could be meters o miles away from where Ron was.

On the top of a small hill a short distance away stood an old ruin of some kind. Draco began to make his way towards it. It was as good a place to start as any. He kept his eyes peeled for any activity, Chirloc or otherwise, but aside from a few more sheep there was nothing, and that made his distinctly uneasy.

Surely his father would have set wards, traps, anything.

The Chirloc should have attacked him by now, like they always did when anyone entered their 'territory'. there was so much he would have to look up when he returned to base. His mind could never be still for a moment, continuously analysing and appraising any given situation, it was a wonder he didn't stop concentrating on the outside world at times like this, but he had learnt never to let his guard down on the field.

He reached the ruins without mishap, unsurprised when he found a winding set of steps leading downwards, most likely to some kind of dungeon, or holding room, or, Merlin forbid, a Chirloc meeting place. Casting a last glance round, eyes narrowing at the night shadows, he started downwards, keeping his entire attention both ahead and behind him, hoping to avoid some kind of an attack. Though, on steps as narrow as these were, he doubted very much that he could. Reaching the bottom brought him to a long stone corridor, devoid of light.

Draco looked down it, glad his magic allowed him to see in the dark like his tiger counterpart could. He made his way down slowly, eyes flicking everywhere, searching for an attack. But he could feel no Chirloc presence here, a lingering trace yes, but the demon was no longer here. He continued down, passing a number of doors, some hanging from one hinge, others partly open, he passed them with only a cursory glance inside.

The sound of metal scraping against stone caught his attention, he felt in his mind for that presence of Ron, and bit back a sigh of relief when he found it. Keeping his senses attuned to the return of the Chirloc, or his father, he made his way to the next door up, where the noise was coming from and opened the door with a wave of his hand. "Weasley?" he called, stepping into the room.

"What do you want Malfoy!" the scowl was evident in his tone.

Draco suppressed the growing desire to hex him. "I'm here to rescue your worthless hide, aren't I." he said snidely, making his way across the room to where Ron was hanging rather helplessly by his wrists.

"I don't need rescuing." Ron snapped. It was obvious he had just come round, he would have been free by now if he hadn't.

"Don't be a prat Weasley." Draco muttered, reaching up, annoyed at the fact that he had to stand on tip toes to almost reach the chains.

Ron jerked away from him, angry. "Leave me alone! I can get out of them myself!" he growled.

Draco took a step back, frowning. "Weasley… Ron… this isn't the time for these petty squabbles of yours." he said, as calmly as he could manage.

"Petty!" Ron cried, before snorting in laughter. "This isn't bloody Petty Malfoy!"

"Oh, of course not. You've lived with it for eight years Weasley, why does it crop up now all of a sudden? Because you happened to overhear a conversation between myself and my insane father. If that's not petty I really don't know what is!" Draco snapped, not paying attention, for a moment, on his surroundings.

That moment cost him.

He didn't even have time to twist to the side before a Chirloc had him, he bit back a cry of frustration when he found he couldn't move.

"Now, now Draco, it isn't nice to speak of you father that way." Lucius smirked victoriously as he stepped into view, he nodded to the Chirloc, whose grip on Draco tightened considerably, claws almost piercing his skin. Draco gasped, and in a second was gone. Lucius turned his smirk to Ron. "You have proven quite useful. I thank you. Don't go anywhere now." he strode out of the room with a flourish, leaving Chirloc behind.

Ron watched the bound chaos of the demon that hovered in the corner of the roon, just at the edge of his vision. Even if he did break the chains the Chirloc could kill him before he could summon the magic to fight back. Despite his anger at Draco, and the fact that he had forgotten just what he was partnered too, he wondered what Lucius had planned for his son. The cynical side of him was saying they would probably have some kind of party, that Draco would join Lucius and the Chirloc and try to take over the world. The other part of him, the part that had trusted Draco these past eight years, perhaps longer, was telling him it would hardly be that pretty for the blond Animagis.

Try as he might, he couldn't fully ignore it. Not when the first scream sounded.


	12. Chapter 12

_Another chapter, just one more and the first part of the story is finished! Yay! I am working on it, I promise. I am also very aware that this is a very confusing kind of writing, but I never have been really good at writing conflict between characters, so this is really my only first batch. (lets just say I haven't had much expiriance of conflict in relationships and leave it at that) so Ron's confusion is probabaly more disjonted and confusingl, because I haven't got any idea what I'm talking about. So please forgive me that at least, and enjoy the chapter. This one os slightly longer I think._

_Read, Review and Enjoy!_

_Chapter 12_

Draco spat a mouthful of blood at his father, delighted when he actually managed to make it land on the bastards immaculate clothing. His mouth twitched upwards into a small smirk when the man looked disgusted. "Why would I tell you anything?" he said, voice hoarse. His father had gotten in a few lucky blows that had made his break his promise to himself not to scream. But only three times, and given the curses used, he was rather absurdly proud it had been only three times.

"Draco, Draco." Lucius stepped towards his son, stopping before him. "This is not for me, my son, this is all for you."

Draco debated between spitting again, or laughing at the mere idea. "For me?" he asked, deciding that neither of them was probably a good idea.

"Of course. I do not understand why you left us Draco… Had you not we could have won. The Dark Lord is not pleased with your defection."

Draco frowned, what on earth was his father talking about. "The dark Lord is dead father." he said, with great certainty. He doubted that Potter would still be alive if he was not.

"No, Draco, he is not dead."

Draco blinked, clearing his blurry vision. Obviously his recent torture had damaged his hearing, or his mind, his mere thinking capacities. The dark Lord, alive? He didn't think so. After all, he had heard Weasley go on about it for weeks. Finally his brain settled the matter by claiming that Lucius was just insane, and therefore nothing he said held any truth. When he was free, and back at the Animagis base he could figure all this out.

That depended, of course, on whether he was going to be able to get himself out of this. He supposed he could wait for Ron to rescue him, after all, he did have the mentality of never leave a man behind, so he could be reasonably sure that eventually Ron would come back for him. But he couldn't take that chance. He scowled, this was just like being back at the beginning of their partnership, when he had always had to be sure he had a backup plan to get himself out of messes that cold have been easily avoided if Weasley had just done what he said.

"You need to ingratiate yourself with me Draco." his father said, breaking into his thoughts.

Draco looked at him. "And why would that be?" he asked, annoyed at how scratchy his voice had become in only a few seconds.

"Now, now Draco, How do expect me to allow you to rejoin our ranks if I cannot trust you."

Draco looked at him disbelievingly. He had known his father was insane after Askaban, but not to this degree. There wasn't even a word for this type of insanity. "What ranks?" he grit out, not understanding, none of this made any sense, especially not after the curses he had suffered through.

Lucius smiled, a secret smirk that told of things better left untouched.

"How are you controlling the Chirloc father. Tell me!" he tried again.

Lucius didn't drop his smirk. "You do not need to know that Draco. I shall leave you for now. I really must see how our other little visitor is doing."

Draco barely heard him leave the room. But the second the door clanged shut he summoned up the magic needed to break the chains, only to find it woefully inadequate to do it's job, most of it already rushing to heal whatever injuries it could. With a frustrated sigh he let himself slump against the chains, worried, more than he liked to admit, about what his father was going to do or say to Ron. He didn't need anymore mud stirring the waters, or whatever that muggle saying was!

X

Ron didn't know what to think when it went silent after that last scream. It had been over five minutes ago now he supposed, which could mean anything really. He couldn't understand why he felt this rush of concern. He knew he had felt it before, numerous times over the past eight years, but… Damnit his thoughts were just too jumbled for this. He hadn't had a chance to consider anything, no time to sort out this mess of thoughts. Not when he had to keep a close watch on the Chirloc in the corner.

"Feeling at home yet?"

He looked over at Lucius with a dark glare.

"No need for that Weasley. I have merely come to see how your stay is progressing."

"Where's Mal--Draco?" he demanded to know instead, only just remembering that they both had the same last names.

"Oh, he's quite all right."

What exactly did that mean? That he'd switched sides, been killed, or was languishing in some other cell?

Lucius waved his wand and Ron fell forward in surprise as the chains released him. Before he had time to recover the Chirloc was towering over him. Lucius smiled pleasantly at him. "Come along, You can be reunited for a time."

Ron was forced to follow by the demon presence behind him. Out of the cell and down past two doors, when they reached the third, which was standing open, he was given a push and stumbled into the cell by the demon. He turned t glare at Lucius, who locked and warded the door. He scowled until that smirking face disappeared, the Chirloc presence vanishing with him. He turned back round warily. After all, Malfoy might have changed sides and was waiting to kill him. All he found was a figure slumped in chains. He resisted the impulse to rush over. This could still be some sort of trap. He knew inside, that it wasn't. but he was clinging to it in his confusion. He didn't know who or what to believe anymore.

"Ron…"

Ron started at Draco's scratchy voice. "What?" he asked warily.

Draco's body gave an almost convulsive shiver. "Get me down."

Ron started to move forward until he stood just out of reach.

"For the love of God Weasley! We don't have time for this now!"

Ron frowned. "Why not? The Chirloc don't seem to want to kill us, your father wants us alive. I don't see how we don't have time for this?"

Draco slumped, but his voice was clear. "For precisely that reason. I don't know how my father is controlling them, but somehow he is, or we would be dead. We need to get out of here and st

Op him. I can't do that chained up."

"So magic yourself out of them." Ron said.

Draco squeezed his eyes shut and forced himself to concentrate around his headache. He needed to find way to get Ron to trust him again, at least until he had had a chance to think about everything, and maybe talk it over. He grimaced, he didn't relish that conversation one bit. "Ron," he began, it was always better to start off with the first name, or so he had heard. "In all the years we have worked together, have you eve known me to do anything that would endanger the Animagis organisation?"

Ron thought about it. "Uh… no."

"So why would I do it now?" he asked tiredly.

"Because your father has a way to control them!" Ron spat.

"And yet here I am, chained to a wall, with a blinding headache; in the aftermath of too many curses t count, asking you to help me out so we can stop my fathers plans--whatever they are." it was safer not to mention the 'dark lord' stuff to Ron right now.

When it was put like that Ron didn't really have an argument against it. With a sigh he reached out, undoing the chains with his magic, catching Draco instinctively as he fell, holding onto him until he could stand on his own.

"We need a plan." Draco said, once he was standing on his own, leaning lightly against the all, rubbing his fingers between his eyes, trying to dispel his headache through force of will. It wasn't working. "Any suggestions?" he wouldn't have asked, only he needed Ron to work with him on this, that, and his headache was making it difficult to think.

Ron blinked in surprise. Draco never asked for his input.

"We need more information…" Draco was muttering to himself. "Killing farther without knowing how hw controls them… I don't.." he rubbed the bridge of his nose hard before letting his hand drop and opening his eyes. "Well?" he asked.

"We could capture him." Ron suggested, wondering at why he wasn't more… angry right now, more suspicious. But then, with Draco standing and looking half dead in front of him, he couldn't be.

Draco nodded briskly, winching at the spike of pain that sent jostling through his head. "It's the best we can do." he said. "I just hope he's still here."

The moved towards the door, Draco weaving slightly, before he managed to right himself completely. Ron saw it, and couldn't stop himself when he asked. "Are you ok?"

"I'm fine." came the short reply. Then. "Shit!"

Ron felt the stirring of the Chirloc in his mind, and without thought he turned, his magic already forming the tiger. He swiped out a clawed paw, making Chirloc appearing behind him pull back. He caught sight of Draco in th corner of his eye also change shape, though it wavered a little.

"I do not think my father is still here." he called out, a little breathless as he ducked around a demon, swiping out with his claws and catching it a glancing blow, enough that it moved back slightly, giving him room to take stock of what was going on. There were four Chirloc in the room, three more outside waiting to get in for their turn with them. Ron was in fighting form, his confusion being channelled into anger for the moment against the Chirloc, he however, was already dipping into his reserves. He didn't have the power required to seal any of these demons, nor the power to distract them all while Ron did it. As much as he hated to, the were going to have to retreat. "We need to retreat!" he yelled.

But Ron wasn't listening. "Damnit!" he muttered, barely avoiding the blow of a Chirloc. The blow of the second was harder to miss, and with a sickening crack it slammed into his side and he went down, his magic leaving him and he was back to his human form. "Ron…" he coughed, forcing himself back to his knees, ignoring the pain, staring up at the two Chirloc towering over him. Before the next blow fell, narrowly missing the poisoned claws, he leapt up and changed to his falcon form, though it also wavered slightly.

Ron looked over when he heard Draco cough out his name, just in time to see him take off into the air. His form was flickering, he was getting too deep in his reserves. There were too many demons for him to handle them on his own. With a scowl he realised they would have to retreat. But the question now was how? He could use up the last of his reserves he knew, break the Chirloc's barrier in his Animagis for and apparate back to the base. But Draco couldn't do that, and no matter how confused he was over this whole situation he couldn't just leave Draco to die.

A forced cry made his glance round quickly for Draco, finding him on the ground, struggling to get back up. But the Chirloc around him would not allow this. Acting on pure instinct, the instinct an Animagis always carries for their partner, he ducked under a swinging set of claws and bounded towards Draco, forcing the Chirloc back just far enough for him to position himself over his fallen partner.

He felt Draco's fingers reach up and curl around the magic that looked like his fur. When he felt the contact he concentrated. He had never done this before. Draco had once he recalled, he had been too inured at the time to pay it much heed, but he knew it could be done. He just didn't know if he could do it. Shoving those thoughts aside he apperated, just before the Chirloc's claws swiped the air they had once stood.

They landed, in an unceremonious heap on the medical room floor. Ron barely had the energy to roll off Draco before he lost consciousness.


	13. Chapter 13

_How come no one has been reviewing? It's affecting my work… no honestly, it is. If no one's going to read and review and tell me what you like or don't like I can't really give you what you would like to read. Sigh. So,. Would you all please review. After all, this is the last chapter of the first part._

_Anyway, read, REVIEW, and enjoy._

_Chapter 13_

Ron woke with an uncomfortable start, nearly tipping himself off the bed. He was fairly certain the bed in his and Draco's rooms were not quite this thin. He opened his eyes slowly and found himself looking up at a white ceiling. The med wing. He should have known. Thinking back he realised what had happened. He pushed himself up until he was sitting. He glanced round until he found what he was looking for. Draco was on the bed beside his.

Looking round for the healer, who was thankfully not there, Ron shoved the blankets off his legs and swung them out of the bed. They didn't seem particularly happy when he tried to stand on them, letting him know he had been unconscious for at least two days, if not more. Even so, he forced them to move, standing up, he reached for his clothes, which had been folded neatly on the bedside table. He pulled his jeans on under the nightshirt he had been dressed in, before puling it off and pulling his t-shirt on.

When he was done dressing he moved towards Draco's bed. The blond man lay still on the bed, his hair loose, covering the pillow and spilling over the edges. Ron had never really wondered why Draco had let his hair grow so long… He heaved a sigh.

He didn't know what to think.

Yes, he had gone eight years without thinking of Draco as a deatheater. Yes he had befriended him. Yes he had shared his bed. Yes he had enjoyed it… but despite that, or perhaps because of it, he was left terribly confused. It was as if someone had taken his world and turned it upside down and viciously shaken all semblance of normality out of it. Now that he actually bothered to think of it, he wondered how he could have just let it slide… because that was what he had done, let it slide, and he couldn't remember how… how had he gone from hating Malfoy, to sleeping with Draco. It didn't make any sense.

He heaved another sigh, before turning away from the pale figure on the bed. He needed time to think, time to figure everything out. Because something had changed between them. Perhaps he was the cause, he didn't know, he just knew he couldn't continue to pretend like there wasn't something wrong with this whole arrangement. He headed towards the door.

He needed some distance… time to think…

He stopped at the door and looked back, frowning.

How had ever allowed himself to trust a deatheater?

Harry's words echoed in his head. _"Why Malfoy Ron?"_

"_Because."_ was a woefully inadequate answer right now.

He left the med wing silently.

X

Draco woke up cold, his eyes flickering open. He knew without having to check that Ron was not here, like he would have been normally. He bit back a groan. Of course, these could hardly be called normal circumstances. His insane father had driven a wedge between them so deep Draco wasn't entirely sure he would be able to pull it out. Which could prove very annoying, because the idea of taking tha matter up with the council was not appealing.

He forced his lethargic body to sit up and pushed himself off the bed, ignoring the healer's advice to stay put. There was too much to do for him to stay put. There was no point in talking to Ron, he doubted the weasel would listen somehow.

Oh how he hated angst fests.

Weasley was the most irritating individual Draco had ever had the displeasure of meeting and working with. Especially when he felt he had something to righteous about. And at the moment Ron was feeling very out of sorts because he had spent the last eight years with a deatheater, and was feeling absurdly righteous over his own affiliation with the side of good.

Still ignoring the healer he pulled on his clothes and walked as briskly as he could manage out of the med wing. So, he couldn't go talk to Ron… beside's he wasn't even sure what he would say to him if he did. That left only research. He had to find out everything he could about anything that was even remotely connected with controlling the Chirloc, not that he expected anything to turn up, but one could only hope.

He also had to work out what his father meant about the dark lord. He didn't believe for a second that Lord Voldermort was still alive and kicking somewhere. But he couldn't take the chance that it could be important somehow. There had been something about the way his father had spoken about it, not that he had his full mental capabilities back and not short-circuiting because of curses and headaches. Now that he could think clearly, there was just something… odd… about it all.

He realised halfway down the steps to the library that he didn't have his glasses with him, but the idea of going up to the rooms to get them was far to daunting for his already tiring body, not that he would ever admit it, so he continued on. He could hardly damage his eyes more than they already were.

He ignored the feeling of loneliness that swept over him as he shut the door of the library behind him. He had research to do. He did not need to be thinking about how good it would be to have something close to wild passionate sex with Weasley right now. He couldn't afford to let those kinds of thoughts take over. Because until Weasley sorted his goddamned priorities out there wasn't going to be any of that.

He pulled a dusty book of the nearest shelf and opened it at the front. He had to start somewhere.

_Please review me… please…_


	14. Part 2 Chapter 1

_Sorry folks, didn't mean to wait this long before posting. I had hoped to be able to give you 6 chapters at once, but unfortunatly my brain couldn't keep up. So forgive the long wait, and enjoy the first chapter of the second part of the Animagis story. Are things ever going to get back to normal with our two hero's?_

_Please reveiw. _

_**Animagis**_

_**Part 2**_

_Chapter 1_

Ron had been starting at the pair of reading glasses for over twenty minutes now. Ever since the healer had left. He knew what he should do, go down to the library, give Draco his glasses, and promptly leave again. But for some reason none of that felt right. It had been over a week since they had come back, a week of avoidance and overwhelming confusion, because Ron just couldn't make sense of anything, and it was making him frustrated.

He had taken the sofa to sleep on, he hadn't wanted to get into another argument with Draco over the bed. He knew exactly how it would have gone, and he would have ended up on the sofa anyway, so it was easier to just start off where he would have ended up. Because of this however, he had been woken every single night when Draco had returned from the library. He had feigned sleep, his thoughts still too much of a whirl to even consider speaking to the other Animagis. Listened to him putter about in the small kitchen making his tea, before going to bed. He'd been woken up every morning, too early by his reckoning, by Draco leaving for the library.

He couldn't dispute what the healer had told him. He knew, perhaps better than anyone that Draco was overworking himself. It almost scared him to think of that. How could he possibly know the other that well? When there was so much he had forgotten, or pushed aside over the years. How did he know exactly how Draco liked his tea, knew that he had to keep an eye on him when he became too obsessed with work, know to remind him to eat when he hadn't… how did he know all that, all the little things… when he forgot what he was… Even his own thoughts refused to cooperate with him recently.

"_Why Malfoy, Ron?"_ repeated itself constantly in his head, and he had yet to come up with an answer that could explain anything.

How could he have let his guard down so much that he had become almost cosy with a deatheater? His glare turned harder, the glasses didn't seem to realise, or they just didn't care how angry he was becoming. He let out a sigh and slumped back, thinking about what the healer had said.

"_He's been coming in sometimes twice a day for headache potion's, he looks sick, Ron, and it's my duty as a healer to help… but you know Mr. Malfoy, he never accepts help. He can't go on like this any longer Ron, and as his partner you have to do something."_

But what could he do?

He had realised after the healer had left that he had indeed noticed Draco was beginning to look ill, and that he had been having headaches. When he caught sight of the glasses, sitting innocuously on the kitchen counter where he had watched Draco sit them while he waited for his tea to brew, rubbing between his eyes like he had a major headache. Ron had ignored the spike of worry at the motion, in no mood to deal with his conflicting emotions so early in the morning.

He knew why Draco was having the headaches, it was obvious really, he forgot his glasses more often than not, and reading the texts in the library strained his eyes. It had taken weeks of persuasion to get Draco to realise he needed reading glasses at all. Ron couldn't stop the tiny smile that played on his lips as he remembered the way Draco had bickered at him for hours about it. That had been four years ago now.

Heaving another sigh he reached out for the innocent spectacles, and stood. If he didn't go do something he would probably have the healer back here again tomorrow with another speech on how Animagis partners have to look out for each other, etc. etc. but he still didn't know what he was supposed to do. Before all this confusion he supposed he would have just told him, or fought with him over it… if he was to be completely honest, if this had happened before Lucius had stepped in the picture, Draco wouldn't have been down in the library, he'd have been in their rooms, where Ron would make sure he wasn't overworking himself.

It was strange how one overheard conversation could change something he had never before questioned.

He left the rooms and headed down to the library.

He hesitated at the door, uneasy about entering when he didn't know what he was supposed to say or do. He knew that with the turmoil he was feeling there could be a huge fight, and that was not something he wanted particularly. A fight would do nothing to help him work out what was going on, he knew it wouldn't. He was not always hot-tempered. In fact, over the past number of years he had rarely lost his temper at all, sure he had felt angry, and very much so, but he hadn't exploded like he used to do when he was younger. When he had first started the Animagis. He blew out a sigh and pushed open the door.

Draco was sitting on the floor, three stacks of books piled high around him. He wasn't reading the book that lay open on his crossed legs, he was resting his elbow against it while he rubbed tiredly at his eyes. Ron watched him for a few moments, feeling that stab of worry go through him again. He couldn't remember the last time the other man had looked this bad outside of being poisoned.

"You know," he said, stepping forward, fishing the glasses out of his pocket. "You wouldn't get headaches if you would just remember your glasses." there was none of the humour that used to be there when he said it, and he felt himself winch inwardly at it's loss.

He had been surprised how much he had actually missed bickering and teasing with Draco. He had, of course, ignored this as best he could. But there was a hole now where all of that had once been, and he didn't know how to stop it up.

Draco looked up tiredly, reaching out to take the glasses from Ron. He didn't put them on, just let them drop onto the book with his hand. He stared at them blankly for a moment. There was tenseness in the air that was almost palatable. It sent a shiver dancing up his spine. He dismissed it as his being overtired, he had gotten perhaps… ten hours sleep all week thus far? Less? And the last time he had actually eaten properly… a long time ago now. He smiled humourlessly.

"Indeed." he answered Ron belatedly.

He didn't show any of the surprise he felt when he heard Ron pull one of the chairs over and sat down. He didn't even look up. He did, however, put on his glasses, feeling his headache recede slightly now that he didn't have to strain to see the words on the page.

Ron sat in silence, watching him read. Something had stopped him leaving. He wasn't exactly sure what, but something had. He was feeling very tense, and he could see Draco was as well, even though he hid it well. He sat for as long as he could before he just had to say something… anything… he didn't know how to explain the feelings that had plagued him from he had heard Draco announced his loyalty to the dark lord. Didn't know if he should continue to trust the other man or not… he didn't know much of anything. But he had to start somewhere.

Besides the silence was really starting to bug him now.

"What are you reading?" he asked.

Draco looked up, startled at the interruption and blinked owlishly behind the glasses. He studied Ron's face for a moment, like he was searching for something. Whatever it was he seemed content enough with it to answer. "I am trying to work out how my father is controlling them. So far I am having no luck…" he trailed off and looked at the books around him. He still had hundreds more to troll through. Hopefully one would have something in it.

Ah, the mission. "An idea's?" he asked. They still had the mission to do, and unless he went to the council and explained why he refused to work with Draco he was still on the mission. He ignored the niggling feeling that it would be a big mistake to try and get the council to split them up. He sighed almost silently after a moment.

Draco had raised his eyes just enough to watch Ron, watching the emotions flicker over his face, reading each one easily, after all, he had had years of practice. There was nothing he could really do to speed the process along. He toyed briefly with the idea of sending Ron packing, he wasn't really in the mood to deal with another outburst. But for the first time this week they had remained in the same room for more than five minutes before something happened. Draco had taken the point on that, staying for as long as he could in the library. If it had been anyone else it would have been called cowardly, and avoiding a much deserved confrontation.

It wasn't though, not really…

Or, at least that was what Draco was telling himself.

Besides he had had research to do. He looked again at Ron. He needed someone to bounce idea's off, and Ron had made a useful sounding board for a good eight years now. He could only hope it would continue to hold.

"Not really," Draco answered finally. "Lucius did mentions a few things though…" he trailed off, wondering briefly if it was a good idea to bring this up… but, if they were going to work together he couldn't afford to have this come up later and used to backstab him. Draco was nothing if not practical. "He wouldn't tell me how he was controlling them, but he did mention the dark Lord quite frequently." he unconsciously drew in a breath and waited for the onslaught he expected to come.

Ron was frozen for a few moments before he finally managed to rouse himself enough to stammer. "You-know-who's back?"

Draco released his held breath, this was going better than he had expected, though that could just be because Ron seemed to be in shock. "No, The Dark Lord--Voldermort--is dead. After what happened between he and Potter there is no way he could have survived." there was no specific emotion to that statement, there hadn't been even when the news had broken years ago, he had left that world behind him when he had become an Animagis. He couldn't understand how Ron could still cling to anything outside of that. He had given up on trying to figure Weasley out years ago, it was just simpler that way.

Ron blinked at Draco for a full minute before his brain kicked itself into gear. "So if it's not you-know-who, then what was he talking about?" this was turning out to be a lot simpler than he had thought it would be.

Draco shrugged, casting his eyes back down to the book. "My father's time in Askaban rendered him insane, it could be passed off as ramblings… but there was something about how he kept mentioning it… a conviction of some sort. He truly believes in this 'dark lord'. but whether he is real or not is debateable at best."

"And you think…" Ron prompted.

"I think we can't afford not to believe it. If my father is not the one controlling them, then someone else is." he closed the book in frustration. "and I have yet to find anything in these books that could help me find out how!" he snapped it rather waspishly at himself and at the innocent book.

Ron looked at him. The sooner they got this mission finished, the sooner he could really think, maybe distracting himself with work would help. That was the reason he gave himself for what he offered next. "Need any help?"

Draco looked up at him, his face unguarded for just a moment in his surprise, allowing Ron to see something he didn't really expect, a kind of relief, but not for his offered help, for something more. He didn't know what, or why he thought that, but he knew it was true. Draco nodded slowly, flipping the book he had slammed closed open again.

Ron reached over and grabbed one of the books off the top of the nearest pile.


End file.
